


Sparrow

by jennajuicebox



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Minor Character Death, Robin Hood References, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-02-07 16:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 65,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12845037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennajuicebox/pseuds/jennajuicebox
Summary: Mad, I might be.But I will never be convenient.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My beautiful Banner is by the amazing Shannon17

__

_Katniss_

 

 

They call me mad.

 

Sheriff Cray posts parchments with my likeness, offering a reward for the thief, the girl that alludes them at every turn. They go through the districts with hounds and torches, they chase me through the thick woods that have grown up between the small villages and up through the hills but I know these woods better than anyone, even those stupid dogs.

 

Mad, I might be.

 

But I will never be _convenient_.

 

 

This morning I reach the river in record time. I don't slow my steps until I've splashed in and stand in the green water up to my waist, the water chilling me to the bone even though it is mid-summer and the heat is stifling. I turn so I am looking at the thick wall of pines I've just emerged from. In the distance I can hear the peacekeepers yelling, echoing off the hillsides, the hounds baying. They aren't far off now.

 

My lungs are screaming at me to stop, to pause for rest.

 

A luxury I don't have.

 

The hounds are closer now. I turn and slosh downstream, my trousers soaked through and weighing me down. I stay in the water until an outcropping appears, slimy rocks and saplings and I crawl up the rocky shore and fall against a tree, panting.

 

The dogs are distant now, they must have reached the place where I entered the water and they howl in frustration.

 

I smile at my own cleverness, even though I know I shouldn't.

 

When I can breathe normally I stand and climb the nearest tree to wait. The branches are rough against my palms and when I reach a nice sturdy branch I fall against the trunk, my hair coming loose from the plait I braided this morning over breakfast. I huff out a breath as I hunker down to wait.

 

Those blasted dogs don't give up easily and its evening by the time the howls fade and I feel safe enough to climb down, straightening the quiver of precious arrows on my back and climb the steep bank to the forest above, letting the green of the pines envelope me in green.

 

Here it is quiet, the only noise for miles is the trill of the mockingjays in the trees far above me. I pick blackberries as I walk, tossing them up and catching them in my mouth to alleviate my boredom. In fact, I have just tossed one up when I hear the twig snap somewhere behind me.

 

The nearest village is miles behind me. No one should be around. For a moment my breath hitches in my chest, sure the hounds have found me.

 

I feel my flight or fight instincts warring within me.

 

The berry falls into the dust at my feet. I go completely still. It could be the good sheriff, finally found me or it could be a wild dog, it could be a robber, after all, I'm not the only thief in these woods. I whirl, snatching an arrow from my back. I have it nocked before I come to a stop.

 

I look around, perplexed.

 

Nothing.

 

I loosen my grip on my bowstring, my eyebrows knitting together.

 

“Well, if it isn't Panem's greatest menace.” A voice says from behind me. Its smooth as honey and just as sweet. Many girls would swoon at such a voice, I just feel annoyance running through my blood.

 

I feel my eyes roll upward.

 

Of course.

 

“Finnick, you should be more careful, I could have killed you.” I huff.

 

He snorts.

 

“Likely,” His hand reaches out and yanks at the end of my braid. I feel something prickle down my spine. I _hate_ that. I swat his hand away. “You'd have been dead before you could have released your arrow, _fair maiden_.” He twirls the trident in his hand.

 

“Show off,” I mutter under my breath, slipping my arrow back in my quiver.

 

“Speaking of Show off, I thought those hounds had you for sure.” He smiles, all dimples and white teeth.

 

“It takes more than a few mutts to bring me down, Finnick Odair, you should know that by now.”

 

“You looked like a rabbit on the run, you did.”

 

I make a rude gesture.

 

We begin the long walk back to camp and my mood is only dampened by the miles we put between us and district twelve. My clothes are wet and with each step, my feet chafe in my wet socks. I will be rewarded for my swim with blisters.

 

Finnick lets me take the lead. At least he is mostly quiet as he walks a few paces behind me. I know the woods better, he is content to follow.

 

Its long dark, and well-passed dinnertime when camp comes into view. First just a flickering fire in the distance, but soon the I am standing in a circle of trees that are all too familiar. I set my bow against and tree and hang my pack of arrows on a low hanging branch.

 

Rue darts from Johanna's tent. A lithe girl with coffee skin and curls wild around her face. Finnick thought I was crazy to take her on. “A child out in the woods!” He had huffed, but she proved herself, she can track anyone for miles and she is eerily silent in the woods, able to blend into the backdrop of trees and rocks. If she wishes, she could disappear into the woods and never be found again.

 

“I thought you were gone for sure, Katniss.” The little girl exclaims wrapping her arms around my legs and squeezing.

 

“I told you I'd be back,” I say, running my fingers through her thick mane of curls in a soothing way.

 

“You said you'd be back for supper!”

 

“Better late than never, Rue,” I whisper. She has trouble letting me out of her sight. She's lost her whole family to starvation in eleven. When I found her she was wasting, but the past few months she's been gaining weight, the sorrow in her eyes has eased. She hardly talks to Finnick, though he is patient and kind with her. She clings to me, she tolerates Finnick and Johanna but rarely speaks to them.

 

We have this discussion every time I leave camp.

 

She's afraid for me.

 

I pretend I am not afraid for me. If I am caught it will be the hangman's noose for sure. I tell myself it is better than starving to death, quicker at least.

 

 

“Come on now, little bit,” I say, pushing her back from me gently and smiling at her. “Tell me you saved me a plate.” I tickle her side, coaxing out a small smile.

 

Finally, she smiles, nodding toward the fire.

 

I eat my meal of roasted duck and greens in relative silence as Finnick counts the days' bounty. We had come across Seneca Crane's carriage by complete happenstance, but when the opportunity arose to alleviate the vile man of his purse, I couldn't help myself.

 

I slip my hand into the pocket of my trousers and run my fingers over the cool metal of the cufflinks I had taken from him, real silver, just one could keep district twelve in food for a week.

 

I toss them into the pile of gold coins and rings at Finnicks feet.

 

“Fancy a trip to the district tomorrow, love?” Finnick asks me. I spear a piece of meat with the tip of my knife and hold it up for inspection before stuffing it into my mouth.

 

“I suppose,” I say.

 

Truth is, I can think of a thousand things I would rather do than see the burned out shells of buildings and collapsed homes that make up my home district. Not many people left now, after the fires. Most who survived moved to eleven, to be absorbed by the neighboring villages that dot the valley there.

 

Those who stayed try to rebuild the best they can.

 

I reach up my sleeve and feel the smooth scars that run up my arms and down my back. They're dark and ugly and puckering, licking their way up my neck and across the right side of my face. I avoid mirrors now, its easier than remembering how the fire had licked its way up my body and singed my hair away to nearly nothing.

 

My sister says I was lucky I wasn't blinded. She says I am lucky to be alive.

 

I don't feel lucky.

 

But I was luckier than our mother, who died in the fire.

 

When the grief hits I remind myself that it is okay, the smoke got to her before the flames. It's not like she would have survived the winter anyway at the rate we were going. Yes, at this point her death was a mercy, a relief.

 

I feel sick with it. A cold thought, but I've long been cold. Even in the middle of summer. Sometimes I fear I am made of ice, stone.

 

Hard and unmoving.

 

 

Rue sits next to me, handing me an apple to core for our dessert and I focus on that instead of the rotted skin on my arms, passing out slivers of the fruit to Finnick and Rue before popping some in my mouth, breaking the skin with my teeth, relishing the tart juice that floods over my tongue.

 

Johanna comes out and mutters something uncomplimentary toward me. She's about a hundred pounds, a small girl I found on the side of the road, bloodied and raw.

 

She never speaks of what happened but her chocolate eyes hold a heaviness that seems to hold her down to earth.

 

She has her axe slung over her shoulder as she eyes Finnick and me with that fire deep within the pit of her stomach. Her wounds have long healed, but the fire will never be gone. At least we have that in common.

 

“A bit soon for a trip to the district, you think? Peacekeepers will be crawling over the place.” She mutters, sitting next to Rue.

 

“If we go early enough it won't be a problem, we can handle a handful of white shirts, its been weeks,” Finnick says. “People are hungry.”

 

“Its a risk,” Johanna says. “They'll be looking for us.”

 

“Our supplies are low,” Finnick says in a simple way. “We'll need to make a trip anyway.”

 

“Yes, and the bar wench you've been eying has nothing to do with this at all, right Finn?” Johanna raises her eyebrows. Finnick smiles crookedly.

 

“She served a mighty fine ale.” He says wistfully.

 

Johanna and I both roll our eyes.

 

“It isn't just the peacekeepers,” Johanna is trying to keep the edge out of her voice but I can hear the anger seeping in. “The king's guard will be out looking for Katniss.” She gestures at me wildly. I just spit on the tip of my knife and clean it with the edge of my shirt.

 

“Yes, Jo,” Finnick snorts. “They will be looking for Katniss, they are always looking for Katniss, they will always be looking for Katniss.”

 

“Excuse me for being wary, each time we enter the district we risk being caught and killed and for what? For people that don't give a lick about us? None of them risked their necks for this money! And it's our necks at risk.”

 

“Shut up, both of you!” I snap, my patience finally wearing thin. Rue startles next to me and I soothe her hair back. When I finally look up at the two of them they are looking back at me, waiting for my final decision.

 

“Go to bed, we leave for the district before dawn,” I state. They share a look between them before Finnick collects the coins at his feet and stands. Johanna huffs away, back to her tent to fume alone.

 

Rue eyes me warily.

 

“Go to bed, Little Bit,” I tell her. She reluctantly disappears behind the flap of my tent.

 

Finnick gives me a look.

 

“What?” I grumble, looking at the dirt at my feet. He just smiles like he knows something I don't.

 

“It's been months since we've been to twelve,” He says with a shrug.

 

“And?”

 

“You must miss Prim.” He says softly.

 

Oh, I do.

 

I must make a face because Finnick laughs, though not unkindly.

 

“I do,” I say.

 

“She's not safe there.” He says simply.

 

I turn away from him, the smell of the wood fire invading my nostrils. It brings on a round of vivid flashes from the past.

 

Acrid, black smoke, so thick I can't see.

 

My sister screaming my name.

 

Trying to run with legs heavy, a mind still muddled with sleep. Trying to reach my sister.

 

Stumbling blindly.

 

The lurch as the wood beam crumbles and lands on top of me, the heat searing my skin, smelling foul.

 

Then nothing.

 

“She isn't safe anywhere.” I croak, then I turn my back on him.

 

I don't head for my tent though, I head for a tree nearby and climb until I am high enough I can see the whole camp and the blackness beyond. I prop myself against the truck and settle in to wait for morning. To pass the time, I look up at the stars, glittering down from the inky black summer night.

 

I wonder if my sister is looking up at the sky right now, thinking of me.

 

I will her to know that I am close.

 

And I will not fail her.

 

 

XX.XX

 

 

When we ride up to the edge of the woods just as dawn is beginning to break. The village is quiet. The few houses that weren't ruined in the fire sit in the half darkness cold and stark. There is no one out walking, the few shopfronts that remain are locked tight, shutters drawn.

 

They leave there horses tied at the treeline and walk through the meadow where I played as a child. I swallow the hard lump forming in my throat. This is the place they buried my mother and so many others that had died screaming.

 

I lift my cloak over my head and step into the dust at the edge of town, the tinkling of the small burlap sacks in my bag jangling, the only sound for miles, even the birds are not yet awake.

 

Finnick, Johanna and I split up, hanging small sacks of gold on laundry lines and setting them in doorways for people to find. We stick to the shadows close to the buildings, avoiding the white uniforms of the men patrolling the streets.

 

When I reach a large house, mostly untouched by the light I pause.

 

It's been so long, surely, just a peek at her shouldn't hurt anything.

 

I find a sturdy tree that overhangs the roof and climb up, its almost too easy and before I know it I am slipping through the window, hopping down from the windowsill on silent feet.

 

She looks peaceful in sleep, her blonde hair wild around her face, her face peaceful and serene. I inch forward and take my time pulling up the blankets up to her shoulders, she stirs a little but doesn't wake. I smooth the hair away from her face and I think she whispers my name but her eyes don't open.

 

I don't wake her but leave a sack of gold on her bedside table for her to find. When I descend the stairs I am feeling tired and lonely, I already miss my sister. Having to leave her here leaves a pulsing ache deep within my heart.

 

I am almost to the door when I hear him.

 

“Heading out again already?” I sigh and turn around to see the ex-sheriff of district twelve eyeing me from the kitchen table, a bottle of white liquor on the table in front of him.

 

“Nice to see you too, Sheriff Abernathy,” I say somewhat coldly.

 

“It was quite a risk, coming here.”

 

“It's a risk for me to be anywhere,” I say, shifting my bow on my shoulder.

 

“Especially after your stunt yesterday.” His eyes regarding me warily.

 

“Well, when an opportunity presents itself,” I say drolly.

 

“You're an idiot, you know that sweetheart? I mean Seneca Crane, what were you thinking?” He seethes.

 

“I was thinking of lamb chops and mash, to be honest.” I bite out. “And that idiot crossed into my land, with enough gold to keep all of you fed for months.”

 

“Cripes Katniss, he's the most powerful noble from here to district three, this isn't the kind of thing Cray can just let go. They'll keep you on the run until they finally catch you. And they will catch you,” He shoves his finger in my direction. “They won't stop until your dead.” I shift my weight from foot to foot.

 

“So be it,” I say with a shrug.

 

“you're a fool.” He snaps.

 

I turn and walk out at that.

 

 

I don't look behind me, not once.

 

I'm standing in an alleyway tucked between the bakery and the cobblers, standing at the edge of the cobblestone, staring at the newly erected whipping post, still slick with someone's blood when I realize something is terribly wrong.

 

I don't see Finnick or Johanna anywhere. District twelve isn't a large place and from my vantage point, I can see every storefront, every tiny sod hut, and house. There is no one around. The mockingjays are singing above me now. Sunlight is beginning to flood the town. We need to be gone, now.

 

It's too still.

 

Then the clap of a door and feet scuffling in the dust and Finnick comes into view. He sprints across the square, tearing right for me.

 

“Time to go.” He grabs my hand, not slowing, yanking me along behind him.

 

“What did you do?” I snarl, struggling to keep up with his long legs.

 

“That isn't important Katniss,” He says between each sharp intake of air. “Where's Johanna?”

 

“I don't know!” I shout, trying to wrench my hand from his iron grip.

 

I turn back to see three guards chasing us in there dull gray uniforms, the seal of Panem emblazoned on their chests in blood red.

 

“Stop!” One of them shouts.

 

“Finnick!” I snarl and a laugh erupts from his chest as he throws back his head. His bronze hair glints in the early morning sunlight.

 

“Seriously, Mate when has that ever worked?” Finnick shouts at the men behind us.

 

We run headlong into Johanna whose running toward the meadow.

 

“What the devil happened?” She snarls.

 

“Finnick,” I huff in way of explanation.

 

“Fucking, Finnick,” she snarls.

 

Finnick just laughs as Johanna spews some colorful language his direction. We've almost reached the horses, if we could just get to the treeline before the king's guard catches up with us we'll be safe. I risk a look behind us to see the men faltering, tired and worn, a good distance behind us.

 

Then we are in the safety of the trees. Back in the shadows that hang even in the summer sun. My lungs are begging me to stop but my legs keep going. I'm going to make it.

 

I can't stop myself from throwing my head back and laughing.

 

I hit something, a wall? A tree?

 

I am knocked to my ass in the dirt and for a moment black creeps into my vision stars dotting my sight as I stare up at the canopy of leaves above me.

 

“Katniss?” It's Finnick.

 

“Katniss?” Another voice says and everything in me is stilled. It hurts worse than the ache in my lungs or the throbbing now pulsing through my head. It isn't possible. I shoot up, panting for air, dust sticking to my sweat-soaked skin.

 

This isn't possible.

 

I was sure he was gone forever. Yet, there he sits, dirt all over him, twigs and dead leaves stuck in his blonde curls, eyes blue as the sky and just as endless.

 

Peeta Mellark.

 

For a long moment, all we can do is stare at each other. In the distance, I hear the shouts of men and I am somewhat aware that the guard is closing in on us, on me.

 

I always knew he'd be the death of me.

 

For a moment I can smell the fresh bread, feel the loaves, still warm searing my skin through my sodden dress. I flounder, not daring to take a breath.

 

What is a noble boy doing in the woods?

 

“Fucking hell,” Finnick shouts, grabbing me by my cloak and hefting me up. It knocks something loose in me and I make a move for my horse.

 

Peeta still sits in the dirt, looking up at me like I am a ghost.

 

“Katniss?” He repeats, his mouth flopping open then shut.

 

The men are closer now, my horse snorts nervously, eager to run.

 

Fuck.

 

“Bring him!” I shout to Finnick.

 

“What?” Johanna and Finnick say in unison. Disbelief clear on both of their faces. But the distant yells of the men bring them back. There is no time to argue with me, Finnick holds out his hand to Peeta, yanking him up onto his horse. I dig my heels into my horse and we streak off. The woods a blur of green and brown around us.

 

The whole time my head screams at me.

 

What have you done?

 

Something distant in me answers.

 

Killed us all.

 

I must be mad.

 


	2. Chapter 2

__

_Peeta_

 

 

_The first time I saw Katniss Everdeen I was five years old. I grasped my father's hand as we walked through town, struggling to keep up on my tiny legs as my mother strode in front of us in her finely spun silk dress, eying the crowd of dark-haired families that pour in from the woods bordering the district. She sniffs in there direction and mumbles something about immigrants from other districts like the people are nothing more than vermin she has found in her kitchen. At my young age, I didn't really understand her hateful words. The people seem tired, trotting in with carts sagging under the weight of chests and brightly colored cloth. Even their mules seem tired, trudging along the dirt paths as the people talk amongst themselves in quiet voices. All the while we all stop what we are doing to watch them, a sad parade._

 

_I am only a child, but I don't see what the fuss is. I like these people, even trudging along tiredly they seem more colorful than the townspeople. An elderly woman with no teeth smiles at me and I smile back shyly, hiding my face behind my father's leg._

 

_Then I see her._

 

_She is on her father's shoulders in a bright red dress that is practically a rag, her raven hair plaited into two neat pigtails. She looks around with bright gray eyes, the only person looking people directly in the eyes. Her eye catch mine for a moment then flits downward to her father, who is saying something to her, reaching up and tickling her side until she smiles crookedly._

 

_Then he begins to sing, voice smooth like butter. It is in a strange language. My mother huffs saying something that I don't understand, but I have the feeling it's not very nice._

 

_She sings along and it's like the world goes still._

 

_I don't know it yet but I was a goner that very moment._

 

_The next time I see Katniss Everdeen, I am twelve years old. I've developed the habit of avoiding my mother and her angry tirades by hiding in the one place she'd never be caught dead, the kitchen._

 

_Greasy Sae is our cook and she bustles around readying meals for my family. She's in charge here and barks orders at the servant boys her scurry around her feet like mice. Sometimes on quiet days, she'll let me help her bake the bread for dinner. She shows me how to sift flour and knead the dough, always speaking in a kind voice that warbles now with age._

 

_I pop into the kitchen and she smiles up at me._

 

_“Cripe's boy, I swear you grow an inch every night.” She mutters to me._

 

_“You say that every day Sae.”_

 

_“It's true every day, lad.” I hop up on the counter but she immediately shoos me away._

 

_“Don't you have a lesson today?” She asks, handing me an empty pot. I hold up the book I've brought with me and she grins at me. Sometimes I bring the book I've been instructed to read by my tutor down to read out loud to the kitchen staff._

 

_They love the stories and most of them cannot read. Only people of noble birth go to school, learn to read and write. I hear whispers on the street sometimes that the king doesn't want the poor to be educated. That's just a rumor though._

 

_I fill the empty pot with water from the pump and hand it to Sae who puts it on the fire to boil and begins to peel potatoes. I settle into a chair near the door and spend the rest of the morning reading, my voice carrying over the bustle of people around me._

 

_That's when she walks in, head held high. She is no longer dressed in red, but a plain wool dress that I suppose was white once. Her braided hair hangs in a rope over her shoulder. She's slight, tiny, with sharp shoulder blades. I look down at my book, my voice faltering as she stares at me, her mouth twisted down into a scowl. I feel my cheeks go red._

 

_She's carrying a bucket in each hand, filled with eggs from the chicken coop._

 

_“Ah, there she is,” Sae says, looking at the girl fondly. “Peeta, meet my niece, Katniss.”_

 

_I mumble out a hello, not daring to look up at the girl. Katniss doesn't say hello back, just lugs the buckets to the worktable. I can feel her watching me._

 

_I want to ask her to sing for me._

 

_Plead to hear that voice that is distant in my memory._

 

_What happened to the smiling girl I saw all those years ago?_

 

_All too soon she disappears out the back door, her dress swishing passed me._

 

_“You'll have to excuse her rudeness, lad,” Sae says apologetically. “Ain't spoken much since her Da died.”_

 

_“What happened to him?” I ask._

 

_“He was poaching on the kings land,” She says, her voice fills all the small nooks and crannies of the tiny kitchen. No further explanation needed. Poaching only lands you in one place, the executioner’s block. “He was always daft, my brother.” She says with a sadly._

 

 

The woods are a blur, the horse beneath me snorts as we come to a halting stop in a small clearing I've never seen before in my short walks through the woods. The boy behind me pulls the reigns and the horse whinnies.

 

“Are you completely _daft_?” He shouts at Katniss, whose just pulled her horse to a stop next to his. She slides out of her saddle and paces the grass in front of us. I can't stop staring at her, whole and safe, right in front of me.

 

I thought she was dead.

 

She has to be. She's a ghost, it isn't possible she survived the fire.

 

Her eyes bore into mine. And I feel doubt flicker into my chest. I'd know that cross look anywhere. Definitely not a ghost.

 

The skin on the right side of her face is thick scar tissue, pink and shiny, they lick down her neck and disappear under her cloak. I feel bile rising in my throat.

 

It must have hurt.

 

I wasn't there to protect her.

 

Shame floods me and my eyes cast downward.

 

Another horse tears into the clearing and a tiny girl pulls to a stop next to us.

 

“What the fuck was that?” She spits the words right in Katniss's face.

 

“What did you want me to do?” Katniss seethes. “Leave him there?”

 

“Yes!” the girl howls. “Now what do we do with him?”

 

“I don't know!” Katniss shouts back. “I hadn't thought that far ahead!”

 

“Katniss,” I plead and all three head shoot up to look at me.

 

“He knows you?” The copper haired boy says but Katniss doesn't acknowledge him she is to busy looking at me. She looks like she hasn't eaten well, she's skinny, her cheeks hollow. Her eyes like dinner plates, watching me as I shift in the saddle awkwardly under her stare.

 

“Katniss.” I try again.

 

She looks at the ground.

 

“Tie him up,” she says.

 

“What?” I say but no one is listening to me. They're too busy hissing amongst themselves in quiet voices and I can't make out what they are saying.

 

What happened to the kitchen girl I knew so long ago? The girl in the wool dress with the petulant scowl is gone now. This girl is in trousers and a tunic, her braid soaked with sweat as she speaks furiously under her breath gesturing toward me with her hands.

 

Suddenly the boy's voice rings out.

 

“Mellark?” He gasps, Katniss looks somewhat contrite. “As in the noble Mellark? As in the king's second cousin?”

 

“That would be the one,” I say, shifting my weight in the saddle. “Well, my mother really, and twice removed.”

 

“Shut up!” The little dark-haired woman says to me and I shut my lips tightly.

 

She whirls on Katniss her dark eyes lit up with anger. “Do you realize the danger you've put us in? Don't you care?” The girl gestures to me. “They won't give up until they find him and it'll be our heads on a pike, not his,” She turns and gives me a seething look. “What about Rue? Darius? _Gale,_ They'll be back in two days time.”

 

“Johanna, shut up!” Katniss barks, her cheeks flushed. She steps forward and jams her finger in Johanna's face. “Tie him up, we'll figure something out.” Katniss looks at me, gray eyes flashing with something I can't decipher. She was always so hard to read.

 

“Katniss,” I bite out. “You don't have to do this.” I sound pathetic, pleading as I am. Her face remains impassive, cold. _“Sparrow.”_ I try, this stops her in her tracks, a few paces from her horse. The boy with the rope looks at her as if she might change her mind. She turns to look at me and for a moment she is the little kitchen girl I met so long ago. There is the scowl, the quicksilver eyes, hands on her hips.

 

“Gag him as well,” she spits and just like that she is gone again.

 

 

We ride deep into the woods, so deep its nearly noon before we reach the tiny encampment where a girl waits anxiously, she watches us with dark, fluid eyes from a tree branch in a simple yellow dress. I look up at her, she can't be more than eight.

 

“Come on, Chap.” The boy helps me down from the horse and leads me to a fallen log next to a fire pit. Katniss immediately disappears into a tent, the little girl running to catch up to her. Johanna storms off in the direction of a babbling brook and the boy laughs as she disappears from sight.

 

“Guess its just you and me, mate.” He says, pulling the dirty cloth from my mouth with an order for me to be quiet.

 

“Who are you? What's happened to Katniss? I thought she was _dead.”_ I rush to get the words out before he can shove the cloth back into my mouth.

 

“You're a chatty one, aren't you?” He says gruffly, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot over the fire. “I'm Finnick,” He says with a wink. I wait to hear more, but he isn't forthcoming. He just sips his coffee and watches the flaps of the tent, where Katniss is.

 

“She's a mad bird isn't she?” He laughs.

 

I don't say anything.

 

“I'm dying to know how you two know each other?” He tries again, my teeth grind together.

 

“Oh come on, I thought you were a talker, are ya?” He takes a healthy swallow of his coffee.

 

Katniss comes out of her tent, seething, glaring at me, then Finnick. “Why isn't he gagged?” She spits.

 

“Oh, come off it,” Finnick says. “He hasn't told me a thing, ain't said a word to me.” He smiles cheekily.

 

“Right, well, he isn't your new friend, Finn, he's a bargaining chip.” Her mouth is set in a thin line. Her eyebrows furrowed, arms crossed over her chest. “And the less you know of him, the better, so gag him, I'm going to hunt.” She grabs her bow and sheath of arrows from a low hanging branch and storms off, not sparing me a look as if I mean nothing to her.

 

“Crazy bird, you ain't the boss of me!” He crows after her, but she pays him no mind and in a moments time she has melted into the woods, become one with the dead leaves and branches, disappearing from sight.

 

“Bargaining chip?” I question her, but it isn't her voice that answers me, it's Finnick.

 

“Never you mind that,” He unceremoniously stuffs the rag back into my mouth. “I told you she was mad.”

 

As if he needs to tell _me_ that.

 

 

 

_I go out of my way to see her. She usually works early in the morning and I find myself pestering Sae at the crack of dawn, offering to help with breakfast, just to catch a glimpse of those steely gray eyes, just once in the day._

 

_One morning, I wake late and rush downstairs, pushing passed the servant girls readying themselves to wake my family for breakfast, shoving my way into the already bustling kitchen where Sae is already sending out a group of coltish, dark-haired girls to the market for dinner._

 

_She catches sight of me and shakes her head._

 

_“What are you after boy?” She says gruffly, sending the girls away with a wave of her hand. “She's not here.” I blanch and feel myself going red._

 

_“W-What?” I stammer out. “Who?”_

 

_“Oh come off it, lad,” She rolls her eyes. “My niece is smart as a whip but can be dense in the matter of people, you've been down here every day for a month, trying to catch her eye. It's hopeless.”_

 

_Hopeless?_

 

_“Her Mam is sick, has been ever since her Da died, and she has the little one to look after,” Sae says matter of factly. “She won't risk her job for a schoolboy crush, she won't.”_

 

_There is nothing I can say, I swallow my disappointment._

 

_“I-I-”_

 

_She puts her hand on my shoulder, a kind gesture. She pats me sympathetically as I sag gently. “I don't mean to be cruel boy but you're a noble, you'll be off to court soon and she is a kitchen girl, a servant, what do you even have in common?” Her hand comes up to tilt my chin upwards, so I am looking at her._

 

_“You'll marry a girl of fine standing, just like yourself.” She says it like its going to cheer me up but all I see are the snooty women my mother has tea with on Saturdays and their equally stuffy daughters. Women bred only to find husbands with titles and lands, bargaining chips in beautiful dresses, to be sold off like cattle. I am sad for them, forced into loveless marriages so their families can keep in jewels and fine dresses._

 

_This will be my fate. To marry one of these women. Something I've never thought much of in my twelve years._

 

_What a lonely life._

 

_“Now, come help an old woman with the baking, my eyes don't work so well these days.” I nod and as I knead the dough on the work table I can't stop thinking of gray eyes, large and hollow under high cheekbones, the long plaited dark hair and whether it would be soft and fluid like water or coarse like stalks of grass in the summer._

 

_I try to banish these thoughts, but I can't._

 

_Sae was right though, I can't help who I was born to and Katniss couldn't either._

 

_We've always been doomed._

 

 

The sky is clear and dark, stars speckling the black like pinholes in velvet and I look up at them in awe. Katniss had told me once that there was nothing like the sky in the forest but I had no idea what she had meant, not really. Here, you can see the sky for miles, it goes on forever. Nothing to compete with.

 

In the Capitol, there is so much going on, so much light and sound, from the clambering of carriages to the deafening shouts of the newspaper boys that you could hardly think. Here all is quiet, for once, I understand what Katniss has always seen in the woods. It's peaceful, tranquil, in a world that is closing in on itself. Towns and villages are getting bigger every day, soon, little will be left of these woods. Katniss is a dying breed.

 

Finnick brings me a tin plate with a few spoonfuls of stew and a round, hard biscuit.

 

“I'm sure a Mellark like you is used to something more refined,” He says, pulling the rag from my mouth. “But the meat is fresh.” He unties me but pulls the knife from his belt and eyes me as I stuff the food in my mouth without really tasting it, my stomach twisting. Its the first I've eaten all day and soon I am scrapping the bottom of the plate, wishing for more.

 

“No seconds around here I am afraid, lad,” Finnick says, sniffing slightly, scratching his nose. “We do our best but we have a lot of people to feed, and Katniss doesn't leave much for us.” He laughs lightly, as if unconcerned.

 

“I've been gone to court for two years, Finnick,” I say. “I've known Katniss since we were twelve, please, just tell me something. I came home two weeks ago and everything is different, the village was nearly burned to the ground, Sheriff Abernathy told me she was dead. I just want to know what has happened, please?”

 

He smiles but it doesn't reach his sea green eyes. He just lifts his knife to examine in the firelight, it gleams, smiling up at me.

 

“She very nearly died, lad.” He says. “But that is as much a mystery to me as it is to you, she doesn't talk about it much. I met up with her sometime later.”

 

“Her mother died in the fire,” I state and he nods. “What of Primrose?” There is a lump in my throat at the look on his face. Prim was the most important person to Katniss, always. I can't imagine Katniss surviving the loss of her sweet little sister.

 

“Prim is fine, staying with the sheriff.” I let out a huff of relief and Finnick narrows his eyes at me. “Please tell me, lad, what is an upstanding young Mellark like yourself doing walking through the woods at the break of dawn anyway?”

 

“I couldn't sleep, I-I've had a hard time with it since I heard Katniss died, She took me out there a few times. I liked it, it felt like for a moment she was still here with me.”

 

“You must have been shocked.” Finnick laughs.

 

“Thought I saw a ghost.”

 

“The town thinks she's dead, its easier that way. They have a likeness of her posted through town but they don't know her name. Those who know she isn't six feet under, keep it quiet, after all, she keeps the peasants fed.”

 

“About that?” I mumble.

 

“What about it?”

 

“H-how?” I try to find the words. Finnick throws his head back, copper hair shimmering in the firelight.

 

“She steals from the nobles, men like you give it to the poor. The king's tax is unbearable it is. Men are beaten for crimes they didn't commit. Executed for poaching what little food they can from his majesty's forest” His voice is a hiss. That's when I realize, to the man sitting in front of me, his friends, my Katniss, I am the enemy. Just like Sheriff Cray, King Snow, The tax collector. I feel my feet twitch with the urge to run. I am untied, I might be able to outrun the boy in front of me but I don't know these woods like them.

 

They'd catch me in an instant.

 

Finnick winks at me like he can read my thoughts.

 

“I am nothing like those men.” I finally grit out.

 

“Right,” Finnick says, snorting with disbelief. “And I am the king of Panem,” He pulls my plate from my hands and tosses it away. “Alright, I apologize your Majesty but I must insist on putting your bindings back on before Katniss catches them off and has my head.”

 

I let him tie me up without a fight.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He called me Sparrow.

_I'm standing before a great beast._

 

_It snorts, nostrils flaring in the cold morning air._

 

_I am determined to get this damnable black horse into the stables before nightfall._

 

_“Come on, Nightlock,” I say sweetly, clucking my tongue hoping the horse won't be able to sense I hate him. “Come on,” I say gently, reaching for his lead. The horse lets out a screech and trots backward, away from me._

 

_“Fine,” I huff, “You can starve out here for all I care!”_

 

_He seems unconcerned._

 

_“Do you need some help?” A voice says shyly from behind me._

 

_I whirl around to see two amused blue eyes looking at me._

 

_Peeta Mellark._

 

_His curls glint in the light and momentarily I forget myself and my manners. Then I crash back down to earth and stumble forward, offering a clumsy curtsy, bowing my head in the proper respect. I hope he doesn't notice that the hem of my dress is hopelessly caked in mud, as are my shoes._

 

_“You're not used to that are you?”_

 

_My neck cracks from the force of my head jerking upward._

 

_“What?” I ask._

 

_“That curtsy was dreadful.” He laughs. “You don't bow to many people often do you?”_

 

_I feel something hot slithering up my spine._

 

_Anger._

 

_“I must be returning to work, sir.” I spit the last word out, barely tasting it. “Don't want to be caught by your mother dawdling around.” I offer one more dip of my head before I reach for the horse's reins, fairly fed up with this entire venture. I'm a kitchen girl, not a stable boy._

 

_The horse avoids me like the plague._

 

_“He is a stubborn one,” Peeta says leaning against a tree. “And he doesn't seem to like you, at all.”_

 

_Has he always been this annoying?_

 

_Usually, he doesn't speak in my presence._

 

_I thought he didn't like me._

 

_I guess I was right._

 

_“If you can do better then be my guest!” I snarl, stepping away from the horse._

 

_I can only watch as he saunters up to the horse and grabs the reins easily, the horse following after him like he's a trained puppy._

 

_“How did you do that?” I find my feet struggling to keep up as I follow after the two of them._

 

_“What?”_

 

_“That animal is wicked!”_

 

_He laughs at me._

 

_“No he isn't, you just come off a little abrasive.”_

 

_“That's rich coming from a spoiled brat like you.” I let my anger get the best of me. This is no way to be speaking to a noble and certainly no way to speak to my employer's son. For a moment I feel my heart sink into my stomach._

 

_I'll be fired._

 

_How will I feed Prim?_

 

_“You're rude too.” He says, seemly unperturbed._

 

_“Sorry,” I say, not feeling sorry at all._

 

_He turns back to look at me, smiling kindly._

 

_“I knew I could do it,” He says._

 

_“What?”_

 

_“Get you to talk to me.”_

 

_I am shocked, locked to the spot where I stand, watching hopelessly as he leads the horse into the barn, not sparing me a backward glance._

 

 

He called me Sparrow.

 

I've been known by many names in my seventeen years. Katniss, a name given to me by my mother. I was Kitten to my father or more commonly just Kit. A name Prim still likes to call me from time to time. I've been called every foul name in the land by the nobles. The people of my district have settled on Mockingjay as of late. A name that I am not sure I deserve or want.

 

But there was only ever one person to call me Sparrow.

 

I had forgotten it.

 

His little pet name for his little pet servant.

 

When it had fallen from his lips I could only stand in mute shock, blinking at him like an idiot. How dare he say that name to me. After  _Everything._

 

I am not his Sparrow.

 

The early dawn has brought a pink sky, filled with summer light and I lay in bed longer than I should, feeling the day creeping up on me unexpectedly fast. Sooner or later I am going to have to step out of this tent and face the blonde haired hostage I had Finnick tie up.

 

“Did you sleep well?” Rue asks from her bedroll across the tent. I turn over to see her shy smile, half hidden by her ever-present blanket of curls.

 

“Not really,” I say.

 

“Is it because of Mr. Mellark?” She asks timidly.

 

“Don't you worry about that, Little Bit,” I say.

 

“What are you going to do with him?” She asks.

 

“I don't know,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

 

She crawls over to me and slinks under my blankets. Prim would do this sometimes when she woke from a nightmare. I reach out and brush Rue's curls back from her face. She looks serious, too serious for a twelve-year-old to be.

 

“Are you going to kill him?”

 

My mouth flops open then shut again.

 

“Johanna says you're going to have to kill him.”

 

“No, Rue, I'm not going to-” I can't say it because it's a lie. I might, I might have to for the sake of the others. All of there safety depends on the fact that we are still anonymous out here, the king doesn't know our names. If I let Peeta go that changes.

 

“I don't know,” I finally finish lamely.

 

“I don't think he'd say anything, Katniss.” She whispers, her hot breath tickling my cheek. “The way he looks at you.”

 

“How does he look at me?” I feel a blush creeping up my face.

 

 

“Ladies!” Finnick voice booms from outside of the tent. “Are you decent?”

 

“Am I ever?” I shout back, sitting up. Rue sighs, the moment is over. I'll never know how Peeta was looking at me.

 

The flap of the tent opens.

 

“You can't hide in this tent all day, Katniss,” Finnick says. “The day beckons, my fair queen and we're all hungry.”

 

“I'm coming, alright,” I grumble, still I waste another ten minutes getting dressed and braiding, then re-braiding my hair before I finally step outside.

 

Johanna is stoking the fire, she doesn't say anything to me but glares as I snatch up my sheath of arrows.

 

Peeta is still tied up. He doesn't fight his restraints, the rag is still stuffed in his mouth so he doesn't do much talking but he watches me calmly with those eyes. Bright and blue as the sky. I have no choice but to look away.

 

“I'm going to hunt,” I say to the ground.

 

No one says anything so I scamper off into the woods, desperate for some solitude. I climb the hills, farther from camp than I usually travel for a simple hunting trip. I slip between trees like a ghost and my feet scarcely make a noise on the dead pine needles.

 

I come to a clearing where I can see all of the countrysides from the wide and lazy river sparkling in the sunlight to the mountains beyond it, black on the horizon. Beyond them is a place I have never seen, The Capitol, the place where the king rests his broken and black heart.

 

I fall into the swaying waist-high grass. It is easy to hide out here, I am only a girl, in the vast wilderness. If I had the choice I could disappear into the belly of the forest and no one would ever find me again.

 

It sounds nice right now, with the blonde haired noble waiting back at camp.

 

I touch the knotted pink scar tissue on my face. I wonder what he thinks of them. They're ugly and bright in the sunlight, shiny and new.

 

Certainly, he wouldn't want me now.

 

Not that he wanted me before.

 

If I sit long enough the forest comes alive around me and before I can think too much about those blue eyes that watched me retreat like a coward into the trees, I have four fat rabbits and three squirrels, still, I gather some mint and fiddleheads before the mid-morning sun becomes stifling and I resign myself to crawling back to camp, sweaty and tired.

 

 

I walk as slow as I can, snagging a few more squirrels from the treetops.

 

As I enter camp I can tell something is wrong.

 

Johanna is nowhere to be found, Rue's eyes won't meet mine and I see that our guest has been untied but more importantly, the gag has been taken out.

 

Finnick.

 

He's sitting up in a tree, happy as you please.

 

“Aye, Finnick, what is this?” I ask, dropping my game bag to the dirt with a heavy thud.

 

“Can't keep him tied up forever now, can we?” He says calmly. “He isn't going anywhere, we'd catch him before he could take three steps.”

 

“Why is he not gagged?”

 

“Are we still on that?” He says, clearly exasperated.

 

“Yes!” I shout, fed up with his insolence. “He can talk his way out of anything! Gag him!”

 

“Is that what happened then? Did he talk you right out of your knickers?”

 

I lob a rotten apple I find on the ground straight at him as hard as I can. He catches it, laughing. My face is red as a berry, I can feel it. I turn to glare at Peeta whose looking at the ground, it brings me some satisfaction to see he's red as a beet as well.

 

“Oi, I was joking!” Finnick says incredulously.

 

I turn on Finnick.

 

“Tie him back up.”

 

“Katniss,” Peeta's voice is quiet, so quiet, still I hear it. I go still, completely still. He's pleading with me to look at him but I'll do no such thing.

 

“Tie him up,” I say, my own voice subdued. “Please.”

 

When Finnick's eyes meet mine there is sympathy lacing the green. I storm off.

 

I don't want his pity.

 

I made my own choices.

 

Peeta also made his.

 

And it wasn't me.

 

XX.XX

 

 

_Prim begs to go to the winter festival. She whines and pleads until she is red in the face. I watch my mother staring at a point on the wall next to the fireplace, her blue eyes unfocused and glassy. Her blonde hair lank around her face. Finally, I sigh and give in. After all, Prim has such little cause to celebrate anything, so little room in her short life for fun that I have no choice really._

 

_I patch up her dress and coat and we walk hand in hand to the town square._

 

_The village comes alive before our very eyes. There are tables of food set up and a bonfire to keep everyone warm. Snow blankets the world but no one seems to care. Red and green streamers decorate each store. It looks like something out of a fairy tale._

 

_Prim disappears almost immediately into the crowd. I hang back, feeling a little claustrophobic at the sight of all the people._

 

_“Hello, Katniss.” A voice jolts me and I whirl around._

 

_Of course, it's him._

 

_“Mr. Mellark,” I say drolly, dipping my head in a formal respect. I hope my annoyance isn't too clear on my face._

 

_Rich little brat._

 

_I have to admit though, rich suits him. His coat is a deep midnight blue that brings out his eyes. The thought invades me before I have time to banish it completely._

 

_“Enjoying the festivities?” He asks._

 

_“Not really,” I bite out, whirling back around, deciding to ignore him. Someone has pulled out a fiddle and is playing. I enjoyed music quite a bit before my father died. Now it just brings back the memory that he is gone. That the king took him away from me. For the crime of not wanting his family to starve to death._

 

_And the boy behind me is related to him._

 

_He's the enemy, no matter how blue his eyes are._

 

_I look out at the crowd._

 

_The dark-haired villagers, the blonde merchants, the nobles that sniff down at the crowd. I hunker down into my jacket, trying to ignore the boy behind me._

 

_“Would you care for a candied apple?” He asks shyly. I feel my eyes narrow. My fingers brushing the meager coins I brought for Prim and me to share a cup of cider, which is already a luxury we can't really afford._

 

_I've never had a candied apple but I hear they are delicious._

 

_“No, thank you.” I hope my voice doesn't betray me._

 

_“Oh,” He says, his voice disappointed. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. He seems flustered and unsure what to do._

 

_I disappear into the crowd without a backward glance._

 

_I don't know what kind of a game he's playing, but I have no interest in the boy with the blue eyes._

 

_Prim finds me almost immediately._

 

_“Was that Peeta Mellark?” She asks curiously, trying to look at him from over the crowd._

 

_“Yes, and stop staring,” I grumble, pulling her along to the table selling cider._

 

_“Why was he talking to you?” She asks._

 

_“I don't know,” I snap. “He's off his rocker.”_

 

XX.XX

 

 

Finnick finds me at the river, lobbing rocks into the water.

 

“Here you are,” He says softly, his voice laced with concern.

 

“Go away,” I grumble sourly. He goes so quiet I think he might of but when I peek back I see him leaned against a tree, tossing the apple I threw at him up in the air and catching it with one hand. I sigh and throw the hood of my cloak up over my head.

 

“He's quite handsome,” He says non-nonchalantly.

 

“I guess,” I feel myself going red again.

 

“Did you love him?” He asks suddenly when my head shoots up I see he's looking at the water, not me.

 

“I don't know,” I admit.

 

“What happened?” He asks.

 

“What do you think, Finnick,” I say softly. “He's the king's cousin, I'm just a kitchen girl,”

 

“Not anymore,” Finnick says. I turn to look at him, he looks wistful, lost in thought. “You're the Mockingjay now.”

 

“I never wanted to be the Mockingjay.” I pick at the leather patch on my knee.

 

“Still,” He says. “you are, whether you want it or not.”

 

XX.XX

 

 

I pull the rag from Peeta's mouth and offer him a rabbit leg. He takes it, but his eyes won't leave my face. He's looking at the scars. I shift my weight nervously.

 

“Katniss, I thought you were dead.” He says quickly before I can storm off.

 

“So does everyone else,” I say sourly.

 

“Sit down, please,”

 

I do no such thing.

 

I can feel Johanna's eyes on me, watching us from across the fire.

 

“You know it wasn't my choice,” He says softly, watching my face for any signs of life. I remain impassive, cold and hard as stone. “I never wanted to leave you.”

 

“Still you did.” I huff, turning on my heel I disappear behind the flap of my tent before I can do something stupid, like cry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She has no reason to trust me.
> 
>  
> 
> Not after everything that has happened.
> 
>  
> 
> But I have to try.

_My mother lords over the girls, sniffing with distaste as she walks the line. Picking out the slaves that will serve us dinner is the chore of the century apparently. Especially with the king in attendance. She frets over their hair and the way they dress, the holes in their stockings, eying the girls like they are cattle for the slaughter. I hang back, standing next to Old Sae who pulls a face when my mother isn't looking. I have to stifle a laugh, if my mother caught my smile she'd cuff me for sure. When I glance back I catch Katniss, smaller than the others, her cheekbones sharp against her skin. Her spine is ramrod straight and her eyes are glued on a point on the wall, flashing with some unnameable emotion. Her chin tilted proudly upward._

 

_My mother stops at her, sniffing at Katniss before moving on, poking the girl next to her in the ribs with a bony finger. I swallow back my distaste and step forward as my mother tells one girl to step forward._

 

_“Mother, what about this one?” I ask. I swear I can feel Sae roll her eyes behind me. I told myself I wasn't going to say anything, I would let my mother pick from the pack of girls and if Katniss was chosen that was great, if not, oh well, but Katniss is so thin, thinner than the last time I saw her three weeks ago at the Winter festivities. She could use the extra coins._

 

_Katniss's eyes flash with anger. Finally meeting mine. I try to give her a small smile but she glares at me until my eyes fall to the floor._

 

_“What about her?” My mother sniffs. “She looks strong enough to hold the trays.” I try._

 

_“She's skinny,” Mother says. “She'll eat all of the food.” My mother comes back and gives Katniss a poke to the ribs. Katniss looks at me and for a moment I see the pleading in her eyes._

 

_“She seems capable,” I say flippantly, waving my hand as if its no matter._

 

_“She is pleasing to the eye I suppose.” She considers this before she huffs. “Step forward, girl.”_

 

_Katniss seems panicked as she does what she's told. Giving my mother an evil glare behind her back. I smile at her but she has venom in her eyes._

 

_Soon, my mother has twelve dark haired girls picked out before she curtly informs them of their duties as servers. She adds that they need to bathe and wash the coal dust from their bodies before they will be allowed to set foot upstairs and if anything goes missing she will be sure they are all arrested before turning on her heel and disappearing upstairs._

 

_Everyone lets out a breath as soon as she has disappeared behind the door._

 

_I grab up my book, ready to start reading to Sae, when Katniss grabs me by the elbow, her fingernails digging into my jacket._

 

_“How dare you,” She hisses under her breath. Sae gives us a hard stare and Katniss drags me out the door. I try to ignore the way my skin hums where her fingers touch me._

 

_“What?” I ask.”I got you the job didn't I?”_

 

_“I am not a thing and I don't appreciate you speaking like I am.” She says coldly._

 

_“I am truly sorry for that, its just the way my mother is. I assure you I didn't mean it.” I try to smile at her even though it is clear that she hasn't come close to forgiving me._

 

_“Really, Katniss,” I try, my voice soft. “I am very sorry.”_

 

_“Why do you do that?” She blurts suddenly._

 

_“What?” My eyebrows jut up in surprise._

 

_“I don't understand why you have even noticed me.” She fidgets like I make her nervous. I lick my lips and step forward, intrigued by the way her gray eyes dart to then away from me. “I'm just a servant girl, I don't know why you insist on speaking to me.” Her voice is small now, unsure._

 

_“You have no idea, do you?” I say._

 

_“What?”_

 

_“The effect you can have.”_

 

 

 

“Mr. Mellark?” The voice cuts through the early morning quiet and my head shoots up. Gale Hawthorne is staring at me from across camp, his hand on the sword at his hip. “Peeta Mellark?” Another voice pipes up behind him. It's Darius, I am surprised to see him. He used to be a Peacekeeper before he defected a couple of years back. No one in the village had seen him since.

 

“Good morning,” I say uneasily, my wrists pressing against the rough rope around them.

 

“Why are you tied to the tree?” Gale asks.

 

Katniss chooses to come out of her tent at this exact time. She looks between us, her eyes wide with something approaching mortification.

 

“Gale, you're home,” Her voice is soft and it sends a stab straight to my chest. I have no right to be jealous. I left her behind. Still I am, for a moment I see red behind my eyelids before I swallow it down. When I finally look up I see Katniss looking at me, her eyes steel. It feels like she can see right through me and I find myself looking away, ashamed.

 

She grabs Hawthorne by the sleeve and leads him into the thick woods and away from me.

 

Darius eyes me, amused.

 

“What?” I snap.

 

“Aye, I new she was sweet on you Mellark, I never imagined she'd decide to tie you up and keep you as a pet!” He laughs.

 

“Haven't you heard Dar?” Johanna pipes up from the entrance of her tent. “We're in the business of kidnapping nobles now.” She sniffs in my direction, grabbing up her ax from where it rests next to her. Her dark eyes flash with something frightening, something tells me she'd like to bury the ax right into my face.

 

I shift my weight nervously.

 

Finnick chooses this moment to pipe up from where he was resting in a tree near the fire.

 

“He's as hopeless as a newborn pup for her haven't you heard?”

 

I scoff.

 

He laughs.

 

Katniss materializes from the woods, Gale on her heels. He eyes me darkly, barely concealed rage under the molten steel of his gray eyes. Finnick hops down from his perch and cuts my bindings, offering me an apple. I watch the others as I gingerly take it. Feeling all eyes on me with varying degrees of amusement or anger.

 

I take a bite, juice dripping down my chin.

 

“We can't take any chances with him, he's powerful.” Gale huffs. “We have to kill him.”

 

The apple turns to ash in my mouth. Though I was expecting this from him.

 

“Gale,” Katniss says and their eyes meet, a silent conversation the rest of us are not privy to. His eyebrows knit together in a firm line and I know he's already decided my fate. Katniss huffs out a breath. I stand slowly, my hands in clear sight and everyone catches the movement. All eyes are on me. I swallow the apple and it goes down hard.

 

“Look at this,” Gale snaps, pulling a parchment from his cloak and handing it to Katniss. She takes it with shaking fingers. She spends a long time looking at it.

 

“Two hundred notes,” She says finally, swallowing hard. “That's what they are offering for my head.”

 

“Enough money to sway even the most loyal of peasants. Enough to keep a family fed for a year!” Gale rages. “We cannot risk letting him go.”

 

I fidget as I watch Katniss. Her face falls subtly, her whole body sagging. Her eyes meet mine for a split second and I know. I just know. She'd let them kill me.

 

I have Finnick's sword in seconds, before any one has a chance to even breathe I am holding it to Hawthorne's throat.

 

Katniss has an arrow nocked in moments. She always was faster than I.

 

“I don't want to hurt him,” I say, my voice shaking. My eyes don't leave Katniss. Her eyes don't leave me. We are locked in a war of who moves first. She shifts her arrow upward, I tilt the sword against Gale.

 

For a long moment no one dares to breathe. Then Finnick steps between us, arms held out.

 

“Peeta, lower that sword.” He snaps. “Katniss, put down your bow.”

 

“He started this.” She snarls.

 

“Yes and your sunny personality is really helping.” She pulls on the string of her bow, I know she is preparing herself to kill me, if it comes down to it.

 

“Just let me go,” I say, pleading to her. “I promise you'll never hear from me again.”

 

Is it just me? Do her eyes soften?

 

“We can go our separate ways, I promise I won't say a thing.”

 

Slowly, she lowers her bow. Her lips twitch with words she doesn't dare speak. Her raven hair falls into her face, hiding her eyes.

 

Slowly, I lower the sword. I earn a hard elbow to the ribs as Gale shoves me against the tree and the heavy sword falls into the dirt at my feet. I don't have time to react, his hand is at my throat, holding me against the bark of the tree.

 

I try to suck in a breathe but he's cut off my air. A small noise releases from the back of my throat and Katniss shoots her head up, eyes flashing between Gale and I.

 

God help me, she's beautiful.

 

“Gale, let him go.” She says slowly.

 

“Katniss, he had a sword at my throat!”

 

“I said, let him go.” she snarls.

 

For a moment I can hear the command in her voice. For a moment I hear the Mockingjay.

 

I slip from his grasp, sliding down the tree, into the dirt. Everyone releases a slow breath.

 

“That was enough excitement before breakfast,” Finnick chirps, grabbing up his sword. “Rue, help me with the porridge?” He asks, and I only now notice the girl in the tree with her slingshot hanging at her side. When did she slip up there?

 

Rue nods and climbs down silently.

 

“Peeta, come with me.” Katniss says, a hard edge to her voice. For a moment, all I can see are the scars, pink and pale against her olive skin. Then she turns from me, her back straight as she disappears into the woods.

 

I have no choice but to follow her.

 

What else is new?

 

She takes me to the rivers edge. She stops, still facing away from me.

 

“Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you?” Her voice isn't as strong as it used to be.

 

I run a hand through my hair, a nervous habit I've always had.

 

“I can't,” I say finally.

 

She turns then, her eyes roaming over my face as if she hasn't really looked at me the entire time I've been here and maybe she hasn't. I feel like that is all I've been doing. The dark green of her cloak sets off her eyes, making them shimmer in the early morning light.

 

“It would be easier for us, you know?” She says slowly. “If I just killed you.”

 

“Is that what you want?” I ask. “Me dead?”

 

She turns away from me again.

 

“I don't know what I want.” She says softly.

 

“Nothing much has changed,” I mumble under my breath. She whirls around on me, taking a step forward, forcing me to back up.

 

She smells like woodsmoke and apples.

 

“That's rich, coming from you.” She has the audacity to poke her finger against my chest. I'd be amused if I didn't feel indignant. She has no right to be angry with me. She is the one speaking of killing me like I am a turkey for supper. “Your the same as always, you are.”

 

“And how is that, Katniss?” I snarl.

 

“Cocky and blind to the sufferings of the world, a rich spoiled brat!” She huffs.

 

“And you've always been this stubborn and insufferable!” I snap. “I swear it would kill you to show a little humility and kindness, the same cold girl I knew from back home.” I see the sting of my words as soon as they hit her. She slumps slightly before catching herself.

 

“How dare you-” She starts but I cut her off.

 

“How dare I?” I snarl. “Your the one trying to decide whether or not to kill me!”

 

I turn away from her.

 

“Do whatever you must Katniss,” I say resigned. “It is clear you will never forgive me or trust me again. If you need to kill me just make it quick, alright?”

 

She is quiet a long time. I bird cries from across the river. The morning is already stifling but here at the river bed there is a cool breeze. This seems as good a place as any to die.

 

“Remember the time I tried to teach you to swim?” She says softly. I whirl around to face her but she's stepped to an outcropping of rocks, climbed up one and is sitting with her feet dangling, boots not quite touching the water.

 

I don't know what brought on this change but if it keeps me alive, I'll play along. I have no doubt this is nothing more than nostalgia. She is still Katniss to her core. She's still deciding, I just have to play to her softer side. The one it seems she is rapidly losing out here.

 

I step forward carefully until I am standing a mere breath away from her.

 

“I remember,” I say. “My mother was mad about the mud I tracked home for weeks.”

 

“Your hair dried funny, you looked like a rooster.” She has the barest hint of a smile.

 

“I hope I was at least a handsome rooster.” I say, trying desperately to ease the tension between us. Her cheeks turn the faintest pink and I can't stop the smile from quirking up one side of my lips.

 

“Can it ever be the way it was?” I ask suddenly and when she looks at me I know, it never could be. I will never be the boy I was, just as she will never be the girl I knew from the village. I feel the anger going out of me. Neither one of us has been fair to the other out here. I am determined to leave here with my head still attached to my body and my relationship with Katniss in at least good standing.

 

She has no reason to trust me.

 

Not after everything that has happened.

 

But I have to try.

 

“No,” She says resolutely and when she says it the water is reflecting on her face.

 

“Well then, maybe for just today, we can pretend?” I say. “You never know.” I say conversationally. “I might drown and solve all your problems.” I rip my shirt off and her eyes dart down to the water.

 

I take the chance of walking into the water, it laps against my calves. I sink down lower until my chest is submerged. I look over at Katniss with her eyes still fixed firmly ahead, not looking at me.

 

Maybe she will let me drown.

 

I paddle out into the cool water the best I can.

 

The current starts to pull on me. I feel fear shoot up my spine.

 

“Move your arms Peeta,” Katniss says. “You'll sink like a stone.”

 

XX.XX

 

 

We make it to the forest edge and we hear the scurry of feet. Katniss rolls her eyes as we make the slow trek back to camp. She has her bow slung over her shoulder as she collects berries as we walk. She doesn't speak to me and I don't dare speak to her.

 

The silence feels lighter though.

 

I snap every twig for miles and she pretends she isn't irritated but I can see it clear as day on her face. I make an effort to be more quiet but I fail miserably. Its never been my strong suit.

 

Katniss however moves like a shadow through the woods, lithe and small she slips under branches and ducks bushes with ease, even after all the years I've known her, loved her, she still surprises me. Makes me feel terribly inadequate. Makes me want to run my hands through her dark locks.

 

“Why are you staring at me?” She says, her voice lacking the bite of before.

 

“You always were beautiful.” I say gently.

 

She shifts her quiver of arrows. “Yeah,” She snaps. “A lovely maiden.” Her voice sounds bitter now. What brought that on? Does she think I care about the scars?

 

“You still are,” I say quietly.

 

She looks up at me suddenly but says nothing.

 

XX.XX

 

We reach camp and pretend we didn't hear the rest of them spying on us.

 

Gale watches me with contempt.

 

Finnick ties me back up to the tree with an apologetic grimace. I give him a small shrug and accept my fate without fighting. Katniss and Gale are locked back into a silence conversation. Darius skins the rabbits that Katniss caught on our way back to camp. We don't speak the rest of the night, but I feel her eyes on me all of the time.

 

I can only pray I changed her mind.

 

XX.XX

 

_The house is a flurry of activity. The king is due to arrive any moment with his carriages inlaid with gold trimming and its velvet interior that even my family, the wealthiest in twelve could never hope to afford._

 

_The servants rush around, refreshing the roses in our vases around the house. The whole place reeks of them. I fight the urge to disappear out the door and down to the meadow behind my house, the one that separates our estate from the rest of the district. Instead I ask Sae if she needs help with the bread and focus on kneading loaf after loaf while she barks orders at the girls._

 

_The servants file into the dining room for inspection and its then I finally decide to make an appearance. A buffet table has been set up, practically drooping with food. Soups and sweet breads, a hunk of lamb that Sae rubbed with rosemary and slit, nudging whole cloves of garlic beneath the skin. It all smells divine and I notice the girls staring at it, mouths salivating, though they don't go near it for fear of my mothers wrath._

 

_Its more food than we'd eat in a month, its despicable and cruel._

 

_I catch Katniss, dressed in the neat black muslin dress my mother insisted on as a uniform. Her hair is neatly braided and she is washed clean of all the coal dust, her nails neat and filed. My mother is busy ranting at a pair of twins for spilling a bottle of wine on the floor. I risk stepping forward._

 

_“You look lovely,” I say into Katniss's ear. She jolts and whirls around._

 

_“Don't be daft.” She smooths out her skirt. “I look dead in this thing.”_

 

_“Prettiest vampire I've seen.” I mutter to myself._

 

_She's turned the slightest shade of pink._

 

_“Girl!” My mother shouts at Katniss. Her eyes meet mine for a moment. Glimmering in the candlelight. She dips her head in my direction._

 

_“Your Grace,” She says, giving me that unbalanced curtsy._

 

_“Katniss,” I say, dipping my head in return. Though it isn't custom for a noble to bow to a servant, still I do it._

 

_She looks at me as if she can't believe what I have done._

 

_She scurries off to my mother and I don't see her again until dinner. She serves me up lamb and soft loaves of bread, she keeps my wine full and all the time she doesn't look me in the eyes._

 

_At one point I drop my fork to the ground and her eyes dart to me. I smile at her and I see the smallest hint of one on her face._

 

_My mother is looking between us then. Eying the air with anger. I swallow my smile and ask Katniss for more wine. She ducks her head and disappears into the kitchen. I am careful not to look at her the rest of dinner._

 

_After dinner there is dancing in the ballroom. The guests have had enough wine that they sway to the music and I am left to wander._

 

_I see the king from across the room but duck out before I catch his dark eyes._

 

_I slip between the guests, headed for the door._

 

_A group of girls whisper behind their hands and one breaks off from the group, shyly stepping toward me. I recognize her from one of the surrounding villages. Glimmer, I think her name is. She's quite lovely, with blonde hair and green eyes that sparkle in the low light. My mother would approve as well. She's quite rich. An asset to the Mellark name. A smart match._

 

_Too bad she's as dull as wood._

 

_“Good Evening, Peeta.” She purrs at me._

 

_“Good Evening, Glimmer.” I parrot back at her._

 

_“Dinner was delicious, wouldn't you agree?”_

 

_I fight the urge to roll my eyes._

 

_“Yes, our cook Sae is magnificent.” I say drolly. Already bored to death with her._

 

_“How cute that you speak of your servants that way.”_

 

_I see Katniss clearing dishes from the kitchen through the open door._

 

_“Would you excuse me Glimmer, I have something to attend.”_

 

_I practically run from the room._

 

_“Katniss!”_

 

_She nearly drops the dishes from her hands._

 

_“What do you want?” She says, but it lacks any edge._

 

_“May I help you with that?”_

 

_“It's my job.” She says stubbornly._

 

_“Still, I'd like to help.”_

 

_“Fine,” She practically throws the plates in my arms and grabs a handful of champagne flutes from the table._

 

_“My cousin Cato seems quite taken with you.” I say, attempting to coax some sort of conversation out of her._

 

_“That letch that touched my leg?” She huffs. “Took everything in me not to stab him with the serving fork.”_

 

_“He'd of deserved it.” I say with a shrug._

 

_We dump the plates and glasses in the kitchen._

 

_From here I can hear the music faintly, light and airy._

 

_“Would you do me the honor of a dance?” I stumble over my words._

 

_I swallow the part of me telling me that I shouldn't be asking such questions. In the low light pouring from the open door I see her watching me with her silver eyes._

 

_I feel rejection course through my blood. My cheeks are turning red. I turn away. I don't want her to see the disappointment on my face._

 

_“I-I don't know how.” Her voice is so quiet I hardly catch her words._

 

_I turn back to her._

 

_A smile erupts on my face, though I try to hide it._

 

_“I can teach you,” I say a little too quickly. She looks unsure._

 

_“Here, its easy.” I try again. I step toward her and reach out so carefully._

 

_She lets my hand fall onto her hip. I raise my hand in offering and slowly she raises her own to mine._

 

_I do my best to show her the footwork but she still steps on my toes._

 

_My thirteen year old self doesn't mind a bit._

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I shouldn't trust Peeta. I shouldn't trust anyone. I'm the most wanted person in Panem. There will be an enormous price on my head the rest of my life. And my life promises to be short and brutal. Its only a matter of time until I am caught and hung. I know this. It hangs over my head all of the time.
> 
>  
> 
> Denying Peeta won't change that. And his eyes are so blue, like sea glass.

_My fingers still tingle from where Peeta's hand touched mine. Our dance in the low light of the kitchen was interrupted by Sae coming down the stairs and we broke apart so fast I saw stars at the corners of my eyes as I raced across the room and dunked my hands in the dishwater, pretending to be busy. All the while Peeta stood there watching me like he was in a trance._

 

_I pretended like I didn't notice him watching me. The same way I pretend I don't see him now. Its Sunday, my one day off from the kitchen and I've come to town to buy some things for my mother. Gauze, candles and fabric._

 

_Peeta is in the field just passed town, having a sparring lesson in the grass. He hasn't noticed me. I could slip into the general store easily and be gone in moments but it seems I am rooted to the spot, watching as Peeta's tutor knocks him to the dust._

 

_For a long breathless moment I fear he is hurt. He doesn't move and I feel my feet step off the wooden walkway and into the mud below. What I would do if he really is hurt I am not sure, but just as I am prepared to go running into grass there is a flurry of movement. Peeta grabs the man's foot and in one fluid motion Peeta is the one standing and his tutor lays on his back in the mud. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding._

 

_Peeta sees me now. His blue eyes meet mine and for a moment he looks at me, puzzled by something._

 

_Then his face breaks into a grin._

 

_He winks in my direction and I feel my face heat up._

 

_He bows in my direction, his back to the man creeping up behind him._

 

_I could warn him but the cocky smirk on his face roots me to place. My hand comes up to rest on my hip, I feel my eyebrow raise skyward._

 

_He's knocked to the ground again._

 

_Serves him right._

 

_He stands again, wiping the dust from his pants. I turn on my heels and pretend like I didn't spend an embarrassing amount of time staring at him, that's why I don't see him running to catch up with me._

 

_“Good morning, Katniss.” He says. His pants are still covered in dust and people are staring at us. I duck my head a little, embarrassed. He's never spoken to me publicly, not since the winter festival and people are watching us curiously. Why would the blonde haired noble boy dare speak to a servent and one from the seam no less?_

 

_“People are staring, Peeta.”_

 

_He looks around as if just noticing the villagers watching with raised eyebrows. A group of shop keepers daughters giggle behind their hands. Peeta takes it in, the whole time his face looks somewhat bemused._

 

_“Let them look.” He says finally._

 

_“You aren't worried it will get back to your mother?” I snap. “I'm sure she'd be thrilled with you speaking to me, in front of everyone.” I pick up my pace. He races to catch up._

 

_“Are you worried?” He asks, stepping in front of me. “About what people will say.” He's blocking my path. I stop and huff out an annoyed breath._

 

_“I need my job,” I say suddenly. “I have a little sister to feed. I can't afford any rumors.”_

 

_He appraises the crowd with new eyes and when he turns back to me his eyes are soft. “Meet me at the edge of the meadow tomorrow morning.” His voice comes out in a rush. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Has he been listening to me at all? Are his ears stuffed with cotton?_

 

_“Are you completely daft?” I snarl._

 

_“Please?” He juts out his bottom lip, his head hangs down to look at me, giving him a kicked dog expression._

 

_Something in me melts, just slightly. I don't say anything but he must sense a shift in me because he smiles like he has won a fabulous prize._

 

_“Tomorrow then,” He says, his grin back in place and with that he runs off, practically whistling to himself._

 

 

 

 

 

Finnick whistles as the carriage comes into view. The early evening light casting shadows on his face. I give him a look that tells him to shut the hell up. I focus on the bowstring pulled tight between my fingers instead of Darius listing off all the food he is desperate to eat as he leans against the tree I am perched in, hiding among the leaves and branches, waiting, always waiting.

 

Gale stands in the middle of the muddy road. We had a torrent of rain last night and it made many road impassable, it was complete luck that we happened upon the carriage of Cato Hastings, the kings own nephew. We've been tracking it for miles.

 

Finnick gives me a look and I give him the slight incline of my head. He steps forward from tree to join Gale. They work hard on looking breathless. Finnick also has a smear of mud across his cheek which adds a nice touch.

 

The carriage comes around the corner and Gale lifts his hands, running forward.

 

“The bridge is washed out!” Gale yells.

 

The footman pulls hard on the reigns to stop the horses from plowing right into the two men in the road.

 

“Halt!” the man shouts. “You're close enough, young man.”

 

Gale stops, hands still out.

 

“The bridge ahead has been washed out, you're going to want to turn around.” Finnick says, his voice sounds ragged, like he's been running for miles. He always had the gift of overacting.

 

“Are you certain? We are needed in town at once.”

 

“You'll end up in the river you keep going this way.” Gale says, his eyes flashing darkly. The footman seems to consider this for a while before thanking Gale and moving to turn the horses around and start back up the road the way he came, which takes a good long while with a carriage that big.

 

I'm ready.

 

Every muscle pulled taut. I feel like a bowstring, ready to snap at the slightest thing. My spine is stiff and straight. I lift my bow, pull back the string and wait.

 

And wait.

 

And wait.

 

The horses are just about to pull forward. One snorts as the wind shifts. I take in a deep breath, find my mark and let go.

 

My body sags as my arrow sails just inches from the horses face and lodges itself into a nearby tree.

 

Both horses rear back, letting out a terrified whinny as their hooves crash back down into the mud. Everyone has jumped to attention. The footman leaps down from his perch with sword drawn. Gale grapples with him as the horses go careening into the underbrush, dragging the now unmanned carriage into the forest. A woman screams from inside as Finnick gives chase.

 

Darius and I scramble down from the tree.

 

The footman stops suddenly.

 

“ _Mockingjay_.” He whispers just as the butt of Gale's knife hits him squarely in the temple with a dull thud. He goes down like a sack of rocks.

 

The word gives me chills. I had the hood of my cloak up over my head for a reason. Still he knew who his adversary was.

 

Darius chases after Finnick, leaving me standing in the mud.

 

I share a look with Gale.

 

For a moment everything seems too still.

 

“Come on then,  _Mockingjay_.” Gale says with a edge of humor. I ought to put a arrow through his eye.

 

We run instead.

 

The carriage is a flurry of movement as Darius grapples with a blonde man, thick as an oak tree and if I remember correctly from my time at Peeta's estate, just as dull.

 

Finnick seems to have his female companion, his arms wrapped around her middle as he drags her from the carriage kicking and screaming.

 

“Unhand me!” She trills. I recognize her from the many parties that Peeta's mother hosted. Cashmere Hadley. A Duchess from District 1. Rumor had it that her Cato were in talks to be engaged. Guess the rumors were true.

 

“It's alright, Love, you will leave here with virtue intact, I promise.” Finnick has a joking edge to his voice but he really is trying to soothe the woman's worry that he won't hurt her.

 

I rush the carriage.

 

“I will see to it you are hanged!” Cashmere snarls, throwing back her head against Finnicks chest as she fights his arms. “All of you!”

 

“Give it a rest love,” Darius says drolly as he kicks the carriage's now broken wheel, knocking wood into the soft dirt.

 

I am digging around the carriage while Gale goes through the chests tied to the back. I find two purses filled with coin and shove them into my bag.

 

Soon we are laden down with silk, jewels and coin, gifts for the noble's they were visiting no doubt, bought with the taxation of peasants. Everything here was bought with the blood, sweat and tears of the poor. I tell myself I am simply giving it back.

 

Cato is knocked cold it takes both Gale and Finnick to heft him up and tie him to the tree. Cashmere still whines from where Finnick left her, tied to an adjacent tree, howling like a dog.

 

“Some one shut her up,” I whine. “She's giving me a headache.”

 

“I could kill her?” Gale offers with a smirk.

 

I roll my eyes, it is then I hear it, distant like thunder.

 

The pound of hooves against the wet road. My head whirls and my braid whips against my neck. “The kings guard!” I shout. “Clear out!”

 

All of us focus on melting into the trees, running for our horses that rest by the river, out of sight of the road.

 

Finnick throws back his head and laughs.

 

I can hear the hooves, closer now.

 

My blood roars in my ears. I am out of breath and I have a pain in my side. Fear shoots up my spine. They are so close.

 

We won't make it.

 

I force my feet on faster.

 

Then the river comes into view. Fast rapids that swelled with the rains from last night. The air is thick and humid with drying water as the summer sun beats down on us. I struggle to take a full breath. I almost slam into my horse.

 

I pause, pulling the reigns, making sure we haven't lost anyone. I count Finnick, Darius.... where is Gale.

 

“We lost Gale.” I say to Finnick, whose just reached his horse.

 

For a moment all I hear is my blood raging inside of me.

 

“Katniss, we have to go!” Darius shouts at me but it sounds distant as I watch the line of the trees.

 

“Not without Gale.” I say.

 

“Katniss.” Its Finnick, sounding resigned.

 

“No.” My eyes flash toward him and I see his face fall.

 

I won't leave Gale behind.

 

I kick against my horse and he rushes forward with a snort. I snap the reigns, urging him forward faster.

 

That is when Gale breaks the tree line. Only steps ahead of a man on horseback, his uniform emblazoned with the seal of Panem, a blood red. Sword poised above his head, ready to skewer Gale.

 

I hold out my hand.

 

I fear I am too late.

 

Our hands lock and I lift Gale onto my horse, I swivel the horse around as Gale pulls a knife from his cloak and throws it. It finds its mark in the mans shoulder and he falls from his horse with a cry of pain.

 

We are all on the move now.

 

Our horses careen into the river, sending up droplets of water that shimmer in the sunlight. We don't dare stop until we are safely in the shadow of the wall of pine trees, far beyond the other side of the river, where the pounding of hooves are now just a memory.

 

 

 

XX.XX

 

I spend the remainder of the evening counting the coins. Stacking them neatly on the ground in front of me as Finnick and Gale go through the rest of it, separating what we will give away and what we will keep.

 

Rue comes into my tent, watching me with her dark eyes.

 

“Miss Katniss?” She says timidly.

 

“Hey. Little one.” I say, leaning back against my bed roll.

 

“Are you going to keep Peeta tied to that tree forever?” She asks, hands on her hips. I let out a harsh breath. I still don't know what the hell I am going to do with him. Same as ever.

 

Its been a few days and I do my best to ignore his blue eyes watching me as I move to and from camp.

 

I sigh.

 

I step out of the tent and appraise him, hoping my eyes look hard and calculating.

 

He just looks at me.

 

Rue has followed on my heels.

 

“He's starting to stink.” She whispers.

 

I mull this over. His clothes are now tattered and dirty. The ropes chaffing the skin on his wrists. He hasn't complained at all since his swim in the river. Waiting for me to make my decision. He doesn't realize that I've already made it.

 

No matter what he has done. I couldn't kill him, I realized this at the river.

 

I step forward and cut his bindings. He flexes his wrist gratefully. Still he stays quiet, lips pursed together, waiting for my move.

 

“Finnick!” I shout and he comes out of his tent.

 

“Yes, M'lady.”

 

“Get Peeta a change of clothes, take him to the river see that he gets cleaned up and bring him back to camp. If he makes a run for it.” I pause, looking Peeta in the eyes as I say it. “See to it he gets a knife in the shoulder.” I turn around and walk back to my tent. All the time, I feel Peeta watching me. Always.

 

XX.XX

 

I hide in my tent like a coward.

 

I can hear Peeta talking in a low voice with Finnick.

 

Johanna and Gale have come in twice to voice their concerns about the untied, well trained swordsmen in our midst but I waved them away. Rue has a point, I can't keep him tied up forever. And for all that has happened I know in my gut, he wouldn't intentionally do anything that would bring harm to me.

 

Rue calls me for dinner.

 

I spend too long changing out of my mud covered clothes and braiding my hair. I pull back the flap of my tent and peek out to where my band of misfit thieves have stoked up the fire. While Gale and Johanna eat, watching Peeta with eyes dark with trepidation, speaking in low tones to each other. Rue has seemed quite content to sit with Peeta. Trying to braid his hair as he eats. He doesn't seem to mind a bit, talking to Darius like they've been friends for years.

 

“Can't hide in there forever.” Finnick says. I startle and blush at being caught.

 

“I wasn't hiding.” I say indignantly, shooting him a look.

 

“What are you waiting for then Mockingjay?” He gives me a petulant smile. “Your band of men wait to share the bounty of the day with you.”

 

He drags me to the fire and sets me down right next to Peeta. Flanking me so I have no escape. And in moments I have a piping hot bowl of stew in my lap.

 

“Rabbit stew, again...” I mutter to myself.

 

“I worked hard on that stew!” Darius says somewhat bitterly.

 

It's little more water with rabbit chunks and the few greens we had that were in danger of going bad. I work hard to swallow it down as Darius glares at me.

 

“Perhaps we'll let Peeta have a crack at it next time.” Finnick pipes up. “Couldn't be worse than Katniss's pea soup.”

 

“What's wrong with Katniss's soup?” Peeta asks, Finnick cracks up.

 

“It was more Pee than soup.” Darius says as I glare at him.

 

“You like my soup Rue, right?” I ask and she bites her lip as everyone turns to look at the little girl.

 

Her eyes sparkle for an instant.

 

“No, Katniss, it's awful.” She says and the entire camp laughs. I pretend to look upset but I tasted it. It was awful.

 

We are all infused with warmth from the soup and with the raging fire we all feel amiable. Even me.

 

Darius breaks out his lute.

 

Finnick spins Rue around in a dance and Johanna and Gale disappear into his tent.

 

I feel content in my quiet.

 

“Katniss,” Peeta says. My eyes dart to him. It had been to easy to forget his presence at my side. “Thank you, for untying me.”

 

“Well, you looked pretty pathetic.” I say without an of my usual venom. “It was only a matter of time until I took pity.”

 

“Well, I'm glad you did.”

 

“Are your wrists hurt?” I ask and he looks down at them as if remembering the red welts where his wrists were rubbed raw. I feel a pang of guilt deep within my stomach.

 

“It's not bad, really.”

 

“I can get something from Prim for it.” I say. “She's still the best with salves in all of twelve.”

 

“Don't risk a trip to the district for me, Katniss.”

 

“I'll end up there sooner or later.” I say and its true. I'll need to get supplies eventually, pass out the bounty from today and check on my sister. I can't ever stay away for long.

 

“Don't risk getting caught for me.” He says. “Two hundred notes is nothing to shake a stick at.”

 

I feel myself bristle. An edge creeps into my voice.

 

“I can handle myself.” Its practically a hiss.

 

“No one is doubting that, especially me.” He says. “But it isn't like when Haymitch was Sheriff. Cray is vicious.”

 

“You don't need to tell me that.” I snarl.

 

The sheriff is known for his evil appetites. For young girls in particular.

 

Peeta falls quiet, his eyes on the sky. The day is dying, leaving the sky bright in hues of orange and pink. His favorite time of day. I swallow the thought down.

 

“Just be careful, Katniss.” Peeta says finally, looking at me. I see a range of emotions in his eyes. Is it just me or does he seem worried?

 

I always thought I was the one that had to worry about him.

 

I look at the fire dancing, licking its way up toward the sky. It reminds me of another day, hazy in my memory now. The smell of woodsmoke invades my nostrils and I fight the bile climbing my throat.

 

I set my bowl aside and hide my shaking fingers in my cloak, away from Peeta's prying eyes. When I finally look at him his eyebrows are knotted together, studying me. I feel so exposed, like he can hear every thought in my head.

 

“What?” I snap.

 

He's quiet a long time.

 

“I've missed you.” He says softly.

 

I feel a stab of hurt slice through my heart.

 

“Your the one that left.” I say.

 

“I waited for you.” He says, accusatory.

 

I feel my face crumple, I school it into a mask. So he can't see all the regret that floods me and we both have so much of it.

 

I fear it's hopeless. He could always read me. I refuse to look at him when I say it, so I can't see the hurt that I know flashes across his face.

 

“We never had a chance, Peeta.” My voice cracks.

 

I feel the sharp intake of breath, I know he wants to say more, but Finnick interrupts us. Insisting that I dance with him. I let him pull me to my feet and drag me around, much to his surprise. I let his arms wrap around my waist and pull me along to the music and I bury my face into his chest so Peeta can't see the tears that threaten to spill down my face.

 

XX.XX

 

I leave before dawn.

 

Finnick passed out on the ground next to the fire which is nothing more than embers now.

 

It burned itself out.

 

I ride through the forest at a breakneck speed. I hadn't told anyone I was leaving. Gale is going to be furious with me. Going to the district with no back up is a risk, yes, but I crave the solitude. Besides, I can move through town quicker by myself, if I tuck my braid into my cap I look like a boy with my skinny hips. No one will bat an eyelash at me.

 

I leave my horse at the treeline and slip into town.

 

For the most part I go unnoticed. Slipping down alleyways, depositing coins on people's windowsills. Soon, the money is gone and I climb the hills to Haymitch's dilapidated house. Climbing up the tree and shimmying down through Prim's window.

 

She's awake this time.

 

“Katniss!” She lets out in a rush.

 

I am crushed in her embrace and I feel some tight muscle in my neck release in relief.

 

“Hello, Little Duck,” I say, tugging on her braid.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“I came to see my little sister,” I say with a smile tugging on my lips. “I've missed you.” I say.

 

“I've missed you as well.” I study her, she looks worn out. Tired bags beneath her eyes. She looks thin as well. It seems I need to speak with Haymitch about how he's caring for her.

 

“How are things, Primrose?” She shrivels a bit under my gaze.

 

“Peacekeepers everywhere,” She says. “Peeta Mellark is missing.” She watches me carefully. I try to work on looking innocent. Its useless, no one can read me better than my sister. Well, except for maybe Peeta.

 

“Oh Kit, you haven't!” She says shrilly.

 

“I didn't mean to!” I snap. “Daft idiot was out in the woods, I ran right into him, what was I suppose to do? Leave him there?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“They have the kings guard out looking for him.” She says. “Every peacekeeper in every district. Katniss, you'll hang if they find him!”

 

“I could hang for a lot of things.” I snap.

 

I regret the words instantly. She looks so scared I have no choice but to envelop her in a hug. She sniffs against my chest.

 

“Not to fret, Little Duck, there is many a slip between a cup and a lip.” I cup her face in my hands and give her a reassuring squeeze. “They can't hang me if they can't catch me.”

 

“They upped your reward.” She says solemnly.

 

“I saw.” I say.

 

“You can't risk coming to town again, especially alone, what were you thinking?” I decide not to mention I left Cato and Cashmere tied to a tree yesterday. I wonder if that will bring more money on top of me. If finally someone will become desperate enough to betray me. I wouldn't blame them, I might do the same, if it were Prim who was starving.

 

I bite my lip.

 

“I need a salve for rope burns.” I mumble. Her eyebrows shoot up but she says nothing.

 

XX.XX

 

By the time I make it back to camp the midday sun is beating down on me. I want nothing more than to take a dip in the cool water of the river and crawl into my tent to sleep away the afternoon. Too bad everyone is waiting for me. Gale paces by the fire and when I finally step into view he looks like he wants nothing more than to throw a knife into my face.

 

“Where the hell have you been?” He snarls. I roll my eyes.

 

“I went out for a ride.”

 

“To the district?” He snarls.

 

“So what if I did?” I feel the embers of anger shoot to life in my belly. I don't need a babysitter, last I checked I did fine out here without the lot of them. Aren't I the reluctant leader? Who does Gale think he is, trying to boss me around.

 

“Are you off your rocker?” Finnick says. “You could have been arrested, or killed.”

 

“I'm aware.” I snap.

 

Peeta comes running from Johanna's tent. I can't rip my eyes from him.

 

“She's back?” He says, smiling as he catches sight of me.

 

“Why were you in Johanna's tent?” I ask my voice low.

 

Johanna is known for having an open tent. Gale spends most of his time in there. Finnick has even had a row. Its never bothered me before but now I feel heat rising up my neck. She follows after him, an ax thrown up onto her shoulder. A wicked smile on her face. This must be my punishment for leaving her behind today to babysit Peeta and Rue. Johanna can never keep out of a fight.

 

I have no right. No claim on him. Johanna and he are both adults and I made it clear multiple times that Peeta and I are nothing now, not even friends.

 

Still I can feel the ghosts of his fingers on my hip. So long ago now I thought I had forgotten how they had felt, gentle and strong at the same time as his nails dug into my flesh. The heat that had bloomed in my belly at his touch.

 

I throw the jar of salve at him and disappear into my tent before he can see the flush on my cheeks.

 

XX.XX

 

I may have overreacted.

 

I realize this now.

 

Still embarrassment keeps me inside. Even when Peeta knocks and I tell him coldly to go away. After a while people leave me alone as I stew in my tent.

 

I ignore Rue calling me for supper.

 

I ignore Johanna's ribbing.

 

Because I can still feel the sting of jealousy coursing through me. I'm thoroughly humiliated at how he still effects me after all these years.

 

“Katniss?” I drop my face into my hands.

 

“Go away!” I shout.

 

“Can I come in?”

 

“No.”

 

“Please?”

 

I huff out a breath.

 

“Fine.” I say finally.

 

Peeta comes in and stands half in my tent. His broad shoulders almost touch each wall. He looks around for a moment, appraising my living space.

 

“What?” I snap when the silence gets to be too much.

 

“It's homey.” He says with a shrug.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I just wanted to say-” I pull a face. “You can stop looking at me like that.”

 

I sigh and pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around them.

 

“I wanted to say that Johanna and I were just having a conversation, nothing untoward happened, I promise you.”

 

“I know.” I moan, mortification coursing through me. I bite my bottom lip and look everywhere but Peeta. He sits on the bed next to me and I try to give him a sly sideways glance. He's looking at me bemused. Like he's trying hard not to laugh.

 

“What?” I mumble.

 

“Your still so-” He seems like he's trying to find the right word to use. “Pure.” He finally settles on.

 

I scoff at that.

 

“Listen,” He sits on my bedroll and I scoot myself away from him. “I was hoping that we could take another shot at it.”

 

“At what.” I growl.

 

His eyes fall to the ground so he isn't looking at me.

 

“Being friends.” His voice is small. It softens something deep inside me. Peeta always could do that to me. Neither of us speaks for a long time, I stare at the patchwork of scars on my hand, mulling over his choice of words.

 

Friends.

 

I almost laugh.

 

Friends trust each other.

 

Do I trust Peeta?

 

I look up at him to see he's watching me with narrowed eyes, like I am a puzzle.

 

Do I trust Peeta?

 

His eyes are hopeful as he waits patiently. Always patient.

 

I shouldn't trust Peeta. I shouldn't trust anyone. I'm the most wanted person in Panem. There will be an enormous price on my head the rest of my life. And my life promises to be short and brutal. Its only a matter of time until I am caught and hung. I know this. It hangs over my head all of the time.

 

Denying Peeta won't change that. And his eyes are so blue, like sea glass.

 

“Fine,” I mumble finally. “Friends then.”

 

He smiles as if seeing the sun for the first time.

 

“You'll allow it?”

 

I feel a twist in my gut. Sharp as a knife.

 

“Yes,” I say quietly. “I'll allow it.”

 

 

_I must be an idiot._

 

_I stand at the edge of the meadow in my father's old trousers and his shirt that hangs off of my shoulder. I have my bag slung over my shoulder, its empty and slaps against my hip._

 

_I look around._

 

_The woods are alive. I can hear the trill of the mockingjays above, the rustling of squirrels in the trees._

 

_Peeta looks almost comical among all the green._

 

_“Aren't you a little overdressed?” I ask, coming to a stop next to him. He looks down at his clothing, all fine fabrics, as if he has never seen them before._

 

_A light blue shirt of light material and tan pants, boots of soft leather that lace up his legs. I shift a little, feeling drab in my second hand clothes. When he looks back up at me he just shrugs his shoulders._

 

_“What are we doing?” I ask._

 

_No really, What am I doing here?_

 

_He smiles._

 

_The jackass._

 

_“Having a picnic, of course.” He says as if I am dense._

 

_Only now do I notice the spread of food laid out on a blanket. Grapes and goat cheese. A mug of spiced cider, bread with cheese baked into the top. My mouth salivates. I've never had grapes, they're ridiculously expensive._

 

_“What's this?” I ask in the brackish accent of an ancient district I don't remember. I was young when our family left. Its a stark contrast to the clipped tones of Peeta's voice, the honeyed voice that follows after mine. It reminds me we are from different worlds. I have to be careful._

 

_“Lunch,” he says. “Please tell me your hungry.” My pride wars with my gnawing stomach. This feels a lot like he feels sorry for me. Feeding a pet, not a lunch between two people. My stomach growls loudly and he laughs._

 

_“Sit, eat.” He says and reluctantly I sit on the blanket._

 

_He hands me a grape._

 

_I break the skin with my teeth, its both sweet and tart, cool and refreshing._

 

_“Do you like it?” He asks._

 

_I nod as he hands me another, then another._

 

_“What do you want from me?” I finally ask._

 

_“To be friends.”_

 

_“Why?”_

 

_“Why not?” I open my mouth, intent on telling him exactly why not. There are a million reasons we shouldn't speak to each other, let alone be friends._

 

_But something happens before I can speak._

 

_A bird lands on the blanket, its head swivels as its dark eyes watches me._

 

_A sparrow._

 

_Peeta reaches his hand out slowly and with a finger gently brushes the birds back. It seems utterly unperturbed by the gentle touch._

 

_How does he do that?_

 

_The bird hops at the edge of the blanket as Peeta tosses it a bread crumb._

 

_“How- How on earth?” I sputter._

 

_Peeta smiles. “I spend a lot of time out here in the meadow.” He says. “I've made a few friends.”_

 

_“So that is how you spend your time then?” I say somewhat snarkily. While I scrub floors and fireplaces, he's out here, making friends with birds. “Taming Sparrows?” I snarl._

 

_He's looking at me when he says it, leaned back in the morning sun. Eyes shining with something unnameable._

 

_“Wouldn't dream of taming something wild.”_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's easier to be a monster than a woman in this world

_The sunlight is dappled through the trees. Shadows are cast on the pine needles and dead leaves that dot the forest floor. I pause, listening for footsteps following me. The only noise is the birds twittering far above me and the wind shifting the trees._

 

_A perfect spring day._

 

_I take another step, then cock my head to the side, hoping to hear something more._

 

_One more step._

 

_She materializes from nowhere, like a wood sprite or a fairy. There is air and sunshine, then there is Katniss Everdeen, leaping down from a tree branch._

 

_I startle backward, nearly landing on my ass in the mud._

 

_“Oi, You need to warn me before you do that!” I exclaim straightening my riding jacket._

 

_“I can't help it, your so loud I could hear you for miles.” She throws her head back and laughs at me. Dressed in well worn deerskin breeches and a old shirt I can only assume was her fathers before her. Her dark hair is spilled over her shoulder in a braid, tendrils already escaping it though it isn't even mid-morning._

 

_She stands in the early morning light she looks like something otherworldly._

 

_“Aren't you suppose to be in the main hall?” She asks. “Meeting the future Mrs. Mellark?” an edge has crept up into her voice._

 

_Its been nearing two months that we've been meeting in the meadow on Sunday mornings. We eat, we talk, but she surprised me last Sunday when she offered up something precious. A morning in the woods. A forbidden place._

 

_A great risk for her._

 

_She looks different out here. Among the green trees and leaves, her skin looks brighter. Her smile is carefree, less guarded._

 

_“Aye, meeting lines of boring girls in pretty dresses.” I say drolly. I lean against a tree and pull the apple I bought from a cart on my way here. I shine it against my shirt and toss it to Katniss, she catches it one handed. “A line of girls here to tell me how great I am. What a wonderful husband I'll be.” I feel the weight of it suddenly, like a anchor around my neck. I've known it my whole life. I am destined to marry a well bred, high born girl. A girl whose family has paid well to sell her off to my family._

 

 

_“Well, they don't know you very well do they?” She snaps back, taking a bite of the apple. But I see something flash darkly in her eyes. I sigh and slide to the ground, my feet going out from under me._

 

_“No, they don't, maybe that's the problem.”_

 

_“Yes must be terrible for you.” She gripes. “Marry a beautiful girl and oversee the land. To have fat children that never worry about where there next meal will come from.” I can hear the bitterness, the longing in her voice. It breaks my heart. She sits next to me, so our arms touch and our backs rest against the same tree. I can feel the warmth radiating from her. I can feel the sunlight in her hair, smell the sweat of her skin._

 

_“Yes, I'm terribly lucky.” I say. “I get to marry a girl I don't know and watch my people slowly starve to death.”_

 

_“It won't be so bad.” She bumps her shoulder against mine. “At least you'll have someone to share your misery with.”_

 

_“What about you?” I say. “What will you do when Primrose is all grown?”_

 

_“I'm never going to get married. Or have children.”_

 

_“That's a shame.” I say. “I think you'd be a great mother.” She snorts at this._

 

_“What? You aren't going to lecture me about the dullness of spinsterhood? That as a woman my one focus should be finding a man to care for me?”_

 

_“I can't imagine anyone taking care of you,” I say._

 

_She lets out a long breath._

 

_“Its almost mid morning, we've got a long walk.” She stands. “Come now.” She turns on her heel and disappears into the wood._

 

_So we walk, and she doesn't say much. She marches us up a hill. Passed the gloom that hangs under the pine trees, passed the shimmering leaves of maple trees and out into a clearing that looks out over a valley. Then I see the river, wide and lazy, cutting a path through the hills to the seas of district four beyond us._

 

_Out of breath and sweating I fall at her side in the swaying grass. Her eyes never once leave the valley ahead._

 

_I see the embers of something burning deep within her. Something I've only seen glimpses of in the past. Something that resides deep within her. Something hot and choking with contempt and anger._

 

_I don't say anything, just trying to suck air into my stinging lungs. Finally she turns to me, looking down at me with wide, fathomless eyes, dark as flint._

 

_“You asked me what I would do, When Prim is grown.”_

 

_“What?” I pant._

 

_“I'm going out there.” She points to the hillsides, dotted with dark trees and the black mountains beyond them._

 

_“Are you completely mental?” I ask. “You wouldn't survive out there by yourself.”_

 

_She smiles but her eyes are somewhere else. “I'd survive.” She says. “And there wouldn't be anymore fences, no more rules. No one to tell me to how I have to live my life. Not ever, not ever again.”_

 

_I stand and brush the dead leaves and stalks of grass from my pants. “You'd leave me here then?”_

 

_“With your hoard of children and doting wife, yes. You'd be fine with out me.”_

 

_“I could go with you.” I say suddenly. I say it because I am drowning beneath the weight of the district. Every citizen waiting for a fifteen year old to decide his whole future, not caring that it isn't a future he wants or needs._

 

_“You?” She laughs in my face. I feel the tops of my ears going red. Shame floods me. Of course she wouldn't want me. “You'd die in a day with those soft hands.”_

 

_“What's wrong with my hands?” I ask._

 

_“Peeta, you'd never make it out here... how would you get food? How would you know how to find shelter or start a fire?”_

 

_I step closer to her. I don't want her to see how deeply her words cut, even if they are right. She steps back like I am made of poison._

 

_“Maybe if I had a sparrow to show me, I'd be okay.”_

 

_She goes pale, eyes wide as they stare into mine. Then she shakes her head and steps away. The moment is over._

 

_“Come on now.” She says. “I'd better be getting you back before your mother has me sent to the stocks. She probably has half the guards out looking for you now.”_

 

_“You're just like a sparrow you know.” I say off offhandedly. Following after her, trying not to notice the way her shirt clings to the sweat of her dewy skin._

 

_“What, plain?” She says, turning to arch her eyebrow at me. The sight of her makes me smile._

 

_“Free.” I whisper back._

 

_“Free to do what? Die?” She asks._

 

_For once, I have no words for her._

 

 

 

 

 

Katniss is up early. Prodding at the dying embers of the fire with a stick. Her face is in a dour pinch I know well. She must hear me as I step out of Finnicks tent because she turns and for just an instant she looks like the girl I knew so long ago. The girl in deerskin and linen.

 

“Good morning, Peeta.” She says. She doesn't smile warmly at me, not like when we were children.

 

“Katniss.” I say.

 

“Come and sit by the fire.” She says, its a command, hard and calculating. I step forward on unsure feet. When I snap a twig I see her roll her eyes in the early morning twilight.

 

“What?” I ask.

 

“You've been here for some weeks now.” She says.

 

“I'm aware.” I say, an wary edge creeping into my voice.

 

“We'll need to be moving on from here soon.” She whispers.

 

“Where will you go?”

 

She just shrugs her shoulders.

 

“Sparrow?”

 

I can't help it when the word slips from my mouth. I see her eyes flash, but then her face softens for an instant before stabbing her stick into the fire, sending sparks shooting up.

 

“Sit.” She commands.

 

I do.

 

We are both quiet a long time. Thinking.

 

“Where will you go?” I finally ask again.

 

“I think its better that you don't know that.”

 

“Come on, Katniss.” I say softly. “I think we are both passed this.”

 

“I think its time you go home.” She says starkly, her voice void of emotion.

 

“Or I could go with you?” I say.

 

“Yes and what would your fiancee say about that?” Her voice is hard. Venom.

 

My mind reels. She knows.

 

“How did you find out?”

 

“So you aren't denying it then?”

 

“You knew this was going to happen.” I accuse. “You knew that is why I was at court.”

 

“That doesn't make hearing it any less painful.” She snaps. “That doesn't make any of this easier.”

 

“I know.” I say softly.

 

“There was a time when I'd be happy for you.” She says. “It's what your family needs from you. You always were a dutiful son.” She flashes me a cold smile.

 

“Not always.” I whisper, the smile slides from her face and shatters on the ground.

 

“Yes well.” She clears her throat and I wait for more but she's gone still as a stone.

 

“How did you find out?” I ask.

 

“They're offering a reward for you. Six hundred notes. Prim sent word of it with Haymitch.”

 

“What?” I gasp. “That's enough-”

 

“Enough to keep a family in bread for over a year. There are parchments all over the kings road, Peeta you understand what this means for me, don't you?”

 

“I'm a danger to you. If I am found with you it will seal you're fate, you'll be hung.”

 

“I'm dead no matter what,” She snaps. “But this-”

 

“The others will hang with you.”

 

“Kidnapping a noble boy, we'll all die for.” Her voice is emotionless. “I have Rue's welfare to think of. She's only a child.” Her chin trembles just slightly and I have to control the urge to reach out and touch it.

 

 

“Katniss, I-”

 

“You could kill me,” She says suddenly. “You understand that don't you?”

 

I deflate, So we get to the root of it. She fears that I will go home and demand Cray hunt her and bring her down. She worries that I might retaliate against her.

 

“Katniss, I would never.”

 

“I know, but I worry that the others won't share the same certainty. You should leave tomorrow, before they wake.”

 

“Why not now?” My voice is cutting. I don't mean it to be but I feel a sting of something unnameable in my chest, something that has started in my heart and now hums through my limbs. “Why don't you demand me gone now?”

 

She looks at me and I deflate beneath the emptiness in her eyes. The hollowness that exists inside of her. She looks so small, not the straight spined girl I have come to know. She doesn't look proud or graceful or clever. She looks defeated.

 

“I do not wish you to be gone.” Her voice is quiet. It is a rare thing, for her to allow herself this kind of honesty. “But when have we ever been allowed to do as we wish?”

 

I open my mouth to speak, turn to her but she is already disappearing behind her tent flap.

 

XX.XX

 

 

Gale leaves with Katniss.

 

I'm down by the creek, washing my shirt when I see them ride off. So it isn't a hunting trip. I feel heat rising in my chest, despite I know that I have no claim on Katniss, no say in her life, I am going to marry a lady.

 

And Katniss.

 

Well, she'll live her life out here until she is tracked down and hung.

 

And I'll watch from the crowd as the nobel's scream for her blood, unable to save her.

 

There is no future for either of us. We are both trapped here.

 

“Oi, Here's the prince.” A voice says from behind me. I whirl around to find Johanna standing behind me, in a shirt and boots and little else. “Been looking for you everywhere.” She smirks as my eyes drift down to her bare legs and snap back up to her face.

 

“I'm not a prince.” I grumble, flattening the shirt on a rock. I turn back to catch Johanna staring at my chest. Its my turn to smirk at her.

 

“But you are in line for the thrown right?” She chews on her thumbnail. “What you're eighth in line?”

 

“Eleventh.”

 

“Eleventh, what an honor.”

 

“I have no wish to be king.” I say.

 

“No, but it is a good reminder.”

 

“What? That I'll never have the life I want.”

 

“That you could ruin her if you wish.”

 

“I don't wish that.”

 

“No, a man as good and kind as you seem to be wouldn't, but its a hard truth of the world. You are allowed to have mistresses but a woman could be put to death for an infidelity. If you so chose it, you could have your wife killed, as well as your mistress.”

 

“Its of no matter. I'm marrying another and Katniss-”

 

“Katniss will move on.” She says. “We will make sure of it, because we are her friends, her family.” She glares at me. “And we will do whatever it takes to keep her alive.”

 

“I appreciate that.” I say. “She deserves a good life.”

 

“Yes, she does.” Johanna leans against a tree and studies me. “You'd do well to forget her.”

 

“How?” The word comes suddenly and hangs between us.

 

“Maybe bury your grief in your new bride.” She doesn't sound happy, just resigned. “I'm sure a man like you was paid for a great beauty.”

 

I open my mouth to respond but she's already turned away from me.

 

XX.XX

 

When Katniss comes back she is flushed, her cheeks aflame. She casts a glance toward me and almost immediately disappears inside of her tent.

 

“Well,” Johanna whispers in my ear. I jolt back. “That can't be good.”

 

“Shut up.” I grumble.

 

Then Gale rides into camp. His own cheeks are flush and I doubt its because of the early morning chill.

 

“It's not my business.” I say more to myself than to her.

 

“You're right, it's not. Still stings though doesn't it.”

 

“You know that you are annoying, right?”

 

“Yes, that's half the fun.” She has the nerve to wink at me.

 

 

“Better go talk to her.” She says.

 

 

 

XX.XX

 

“Katniss.”

 

“Go away.” She snarls.

 

“Katniss.”

 

“I said to go away!” She screams. I can hear the pain in her voice, the tears. I shouldn't but I open the tent flap and she her standing in the middle of her tent, red faced and eyes swollen. Any Jealousy I had melts away.

 

“Sparrow, are you alright?” I ask.

 

“I told you not to call me that.” She says flatly, wiping her nose.

 

“I'm sorry,” I say. “I guess old habits die hard.”

 

“Leave me be.”

 

“I'm afraid I can't do that.” I say, stepping inside.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because your hurting.” I say. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“No.” She snaps, falling on her bed. She looks up at me, eyes flooded with tears. “I don't ever want to talk about it.”

 

Careful, like she's a wounded animal I sit down next to her.

 

“Katniss, were you hurt?”

 

She shakes her head. “No, No nothing like that.” She sniffs.

 

“What's wrong, it's okay to tell me.” I touch her shoulder and she jerks away from me. “We're suppose to be friends, remember?”

 

Her chin trembles.

 

“Gale kissed me.” She says frankly.

 

I work hard to keep my face a mask.

 

“Did he?”

 

“Yes.” She says, pulling her knees to her chest.

 

“Was it that bad?” I say lightly, in an attempt to make her smile. And she does, briefly.

 

“Tell me about her.” She says. “You're future wife.”

 

“What do you want to know?” I ask.

 

“Is she as kind as you?”

 

“She seems it, though I don't know her very well.” She wipes her eyes.

 

“Is she pretty?”

 

“I guess, if you like blondes.” I say. I bump her shoulder with mine, as she used to do when trying to cheer me up. “I quite prefer brunettes as it were.” She gives me a watery smile.

 

“I think fair hair is quite nice.” She whispers, leaning forward to touch my curls with her hand. I had forgotten, what a calming touch she had. My eyes slide shut under her comforting touch.

 

“Yes that's how we got into this mess, isn't it?” I tease. She furrows her brow, sticks out her foot and pushes me just slightly with the toe of her boot.

 

“It wasn't that simple.” She says.

 

“No, its never been simple.” I agree.

 

“I wish you many fat children.” She says as if remembering herself. She shakes her head. She withdraws her hand. “I have to help Rue with the washing.”

 

“Sounds like an excuse to get rid of me.”

 

“It is.” She whispers. “I was silly to think that we could ever be friends. Peeta you are a noble and I'm just a kitchen girl! A servant. Invisible to everyone. Nothing has changed.”

 

“You're not invisible, you never have been.”

 

“I want you gone at first light.”

 

I feel the first stirring of anger in my chest.

 

“Katniss, I want to stay with you.”

 

“What of your future wife?”

 

“A good woman to be sure but, she isn't you.” My voice sounds steady and sure, but everything inside of me is shaking.

 

“Go home, Peeta. Forget me.”

 

“What if I can't?”

 

“You will.” She says softly. “You have to.”

 

 

XX.XX

 

 

 

Dinner is tense to say the least.

 

Johanna and Finnick snicker in one corner, leaving me by myself while Katniss and Gale eat in her tent.

 

 _“_ The pheasant is good.” Rue says, plopping herself down next to me.

 

“Yes, Katniss is a remarkable archer, gets them right through the eye everytime.” I say, smiling at the little girl.

 

“She learned from her father.”

 

“I know.” She says. “She told me, how he died.”

 

“Katniss could have been hung a thousand times over before she was even of age to marry. I don't know why she's worried about it now.” I grumble. “We've always known it was a risk. It never really bothered me before.”

 

“Because before it wasn't real.” Rue says. “You thought you could protect her. From the whippings, the stocks, even the noose.”

 

“How much has she told you?” I ask her.

 

“Enough,” She says, pulling a face. “But I've seen what the monarchy does to their people, it isn't pretty.”

 

“I've never shared the hatred of my kin.” I say. “I didn't ask to be born into the royal family, I didn't chose it, but I thought I could do some good with what I've been given. I thought I could be better than my parents before me.”

 

“Are they cruel people? Do they punish people as ruthlessly as the guards did in eleven?”

 

“My mother is cruel, and my father, well he goes along with whatever my mother does.” I look down at my hands, a long, almost invisible white scar rests down my thumb. “He doesn't wish to cause discord in his own home. While my mother is outwardly disdainful to the villagers she prefers to pretend they don't exist.”

 

“Better than having people whipped with little reason.” Rue says lamely.

 

“Her family is a different story. She wants me to marry a woman I barely know to secure our line. Never mind that my heart is with another.”

 

“With Katniss?”

 

“Am I that transparent?” I ask.

 

“What was she like?” Rue sidles up to my side. “Before she was the Mockingjay?”

 

“What, when she was a kitchen girl?” I ask. She nods eagerly.

 

“She hardly talks about her life before the fire.”

 

Katniss and Gale step out of her tent. She looks at me darkly before settling down next to Johanna and Finnick. I am careful to lower my voice to a whisper.

 

“She was easier to talk to, that's for sure.” I grumble.

 

“I have an idea.” Rue says with a smile.

 

“Be careful, she's already ready to flay me.”

 

“Finnick!” Rue calls. “Play me a song.”

 

Finnick looks skeptical but can't seem to deny the little girl anything. He has his lute out in an instant.

 

“What are you about, child?” I ask her. She bows low to me. A sight that makes my heart lurch. I don't want anyone to be bowing to me, least of all a child that has suffered so much. Then she smiles at me.

 

“Will you teach me to dance like a lady?”

 

I can't very well deny her now can I?

 

“Only if you promise to teach me a dance from district eleven.” I say, taking her hand and leading her to a spot by the fire.

 

Turns out Rue is a masterful dancer. Outshining me with every step. Soon the good mood has spread to everyone even Johanna and Darius, who dance next to us. Whirling around, the light of the fire casting shadows on their faces.

 

Katniss remain stoic and unmoving beside the fire, but her eyes never leave me.

 

When the song ends I bow low to Rue and she beams as she offers me a graceful curtsy.

 

“I was hoping you'd favor me with a dance, Lady Everdeen.” I say to Katniss, she scoffs at me.

 

“I was hoping for a manor house on the coast but we so rarely get what we want from life don't we, Mr. Mellark.”

 

“You break my heart.” I say with what I hope is a light smile, holding my hand against my heart.

 

“It's only a dance.” She says with a roll of her eyes. “Quit being so dramatic.”

 

“Exactly.” I say. “There was a time you loved to dance with me.”

 

“Much to your mothers mortification.”

 

“Well, you can piss her off from here.” I say, extending my hand.

 

For a moment I fear she will deny me, she sips her water as she thinks. Staring at my outstretched hand. But then she takes it, palm warm in mine and my heart leaps into my throat.

 

“Only a dance.” She gripes.

 

Finnick plays something slow and soft. Her hand meets mine next to us and I feel her warmth radiating, searing as fire through my palm.

 

Some things never change. She's still alluring as ever. And I still am entranced like a moth to a flame and yes, it is terribly painful to be burned but what choice have I ever had?

 

“I'm sorry for the way things have gone.” I whisper. She twirls, but her eyes find mine.

 

“Me too.” She bites her lip. She wants to say more I can tell, but I don't press the matter. “You'll make her happy.” She seems to have settled on.

 

“Are you reminding me or yourself?” I ask, genuinely curious.

 

She trips over her own feet in her haste to stop. Slowly, she retracts her hand.

 

“I could have made you happy too.” I say.

 

“In another life maybe.”

 

She looks like the girl that was. Her eyes like smoke. Lips full and soft. Hair spilled like ink over her shoulder. The scars, pulled tight across her face, dance and jump, pink new skin. I long to reach out and brush my thumb across them. If only so she knows, she's still the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.

 

Something flashes in her eyes and I know I am not allowed to say such things.

 

I only now notice that the music has stopped and everyone is staring at us openly. Johanna with something approaching contempt, Finnick with amusement, Rue's eyes are watery. And Gale is as good as unreadable to me.

 

But when his eyes fall on Katniss he throws up his hands and stalks off.

 

“Goodnight, Mr Mellark.” She says low in my ear. “I trust you'll be gone before I wake so this must be goodbye.”

 

It's always been so simple for her to say goodbye to me, again and again.

 

I bow low to her, grasping her hand and squeezing for a moment before I release her.

 

“Goodbye, Katniss Everdeen.”

 

XX.XX

 

I know why she wants me to leave. She has others to think about, just as I have my future wife to think of. Still, my feet can't move. I can feel her watching me. I whirl around but I don't see anything, still I can feel her eyes on me.

 

There is a horse at the edge of camp, bridled and ready for a rider. She must of prepared him in the night.

 

I sigh and take the reigns.

 

“I waited for hours in those woods.” I say, flatly accusing her of what we both know to be true. She doesn't say anything. “We could have had a life together. If that was what you wanted.”

 

Silence is my answer.

 

That is when the arrow pierces my shoulder.

 

Moments blur together. I think I cry out. I think I fall to the ground. All I can really see is an arrow protruding from my shoulder, blood soaking the tip.

 

I see a man standing at the edge of the woods, the red on his uniform a stark contrast to the woods behind him. One moment he is standing there and the next, he is felled in the dirt. An arrow sticking from his throat.

 

Then Katniss is there, trying to heave me up.

 

“Peeta?” Her voice is a strangled cry.

 

“Katniss, you killed him.” I whisper.

 

Her hands are shaking against my shirt. “Come on, we need to leave.” She says.

 

The camp is awake now, Everyone staring at the dead man in the leaves and muck. “Is that a member of the kings guard?” Finnick asks.

 

“Help me get Peeta on a horse.” Katniss grits out. She refuses to look at the man. No one moves, no one dares to breathe. I hear Rue whimper.

 

“Damnit, someone help me!” Katniss screams finally. My blood is on her hands. They shake violently.

 

Finnick clears his face of emotion and steps forward.

 

“They'll be more, we need to leave, right now.”

 

“I'll get the horses.” Johanna mumbles. “Gale, come on.”

 

They all jump to attention.

 

“It's lucky he had a horse at the ready, isn't it?” Finnick says, giving Katniss a long look. To her credit she says nothing, just helps heave me up.

 

I slump against the saddle.

 

“Their will be more, we need to leave now.” She looks at Finnick, her face betraying her emotions for the first time. “Finnick where can we go?”

 

“We'll go to four.” He says. “I know someone who might be able to help us.” She nods and wipes the sweat from her brow leaving a red streak across her skin.

 

“Katniss,” I whisper.

 

“We'll get you taken care of, but for now, you need to come with us.” She says. “Can you ride?” Truth is, I don't know. The world is gauzy and everything sounds like its underwater.

 

I nod but she looks unconvinced.

 

Johanna and Gale ride up with the horses.

 

Katniss ignores her own horse and climbs up behind me. Her arms, hard and lean wrap around me and she tilts me so my back is resting against her chest.

 

In the distance I think I hear hooves pounding against hard packed earth.

 

“Lets go,” Katniss says.

 

And we leave behind their home, the fire dying in the pit.

 

XX.XX

 

We've been riding for hours, days, weeks. Time is a blur as I listen to the hooves of our horses, Katniss breathing in my ear. Her blood soaked hands on the reigns.

 

When our horses finally slow we're in a clearing with a creek.

 

Katniss dismounts gracefully and tries to help me as I slide off the horse, but I fall on my ass in the swaying grass.

 

I think I let out a moan.

 

“We need to get that arrow out.” Finnick says. “Katniss can you do it?”

 

She gives Gale a pleading look. “I'm not a healer! we should have taken him to my sister!” She says. “We need to get him to Prim.”

 

“Katniss, we cannot go to the district.” Gale exhales sharply. “We're on our own. Its just you, either you pull that thing out or he dies.”

 

Finnick offers me a piece of leather to bite down on. Someone has procured some whiskey to disinfect the wound. Katniss offers me a sip and I can't stop looking at her shaking hands.

 

“Katniss, you'll be okay.” I say. “I'll be alright, you can do this.”

 

“I'm sorry.” Her voice is a whisper. “I don't want to hurt you.”

 

“Just get this thing out of me alright?”

 

I bite down on the leather and give her a quick nod.

 

“On the count of three then, One.” There is a sickening ripping sound and hot pain flashes inside of me. I can't help the scream that rips its way from my chest. Then, Katniss is standing on one side of me, she flings the arrow into the dirt.

 

“Peeta? Can you stand?”

 

I'm still trying to catch my breath.

 

“He's lost an awful lot of blood,” Rue says. “He'll need rest.”

 

Katniss is wrapping a bandage torn from her shirt around my wound. “We don't have that luxury.” Katniss says ruefully. “I'm sorry Peeta.”

 

“No, It's alright.” I gasp out. “We need to keep moving.”

 

So we do.

 

We ride almost all night. I try not to complain but by dawn its clear I'm exhausted. Katniss finds an old abandoned barn and says we should try to sleep for a few hours, though I think its more for my benefit than anyone else.

 

They don't start a fire but Rue finds some berries near the edge of the forest and Katniss shoots a few rabbits.

 

“We'll need some sort of trade when we get to the district.” She says.

 

The others find restless sleep but I'm awake, staring at the sky through a hole in the roof. How did I come to be here?

 

“Can't sleep?” Katniss asks from behind me.

 

“Seems to be contagious.” I say. She sits down beside me.

 

She is quiet a long time. She has washed the blood from her hands a long time ago but She can't stop staring at them.

 

“Katniss, you did what you had to. He would have killed us all.”

 

“I've never killed a human being before.” The toe of her boot pushes some rotting hay around. She won't look at me. “Do you think he had a family?”

 

“Katniss, you have a family.” I say. “What would Prim do with out you?”

 

“I've shamed her.” She bites out.

 

“She doesn't have to know.”

 

“But she will, the news will be all over the district, maybe it already is.”

 

“They don't know it was you, they only know it was the mockingjay. Everyone in the district thinks your dead.”

 

“But she will know!” she exclaims. “Haymitch will know!”

 

I can't think of anything to say, so I keep quiet. I hear her quiet sniffling and my hand reaches out to her before I can think better of it. Slowly, before I can actually touch her I retract it.

 

“How did I get here Peeta?” She asks, her voice sounds so broken. “I just wanted to help my district... I just wanted to keep Prim alive.”

 

“I don't know Katniss, but you will survive this and one day soon, you'll go home to Prim.”

 

“You were always so good at that.” She says.

 

“Good at what?” I ask.

 

“You see hope everywhere.”

 

“I don't know about that.” I whisper.

 

“Do you think I am a monster?” She asks suddenly. I look back at her, eyes large and sad. The sound of her voice shattering the stillness pierces my heart.

 

“Do you want me to say yes?”

 

“It's easier to be a monster than a woman in this world.” She muses. She falls quiet again. So silent I can hear my heart galloping in my chest, the ragged dance of my heart in my chest.

 

“Would a monster have saved me?” I ask. “Would a monster have saved Rue from starving?”

 

This isn't the answer she wanted. She remains stoic and still.

 

“I think you are a very brave girl, in a world that is maddening. I admire you so much Katniss.” I whisper.

 

“I don't feel brave.” She whispers. “I'm so scared Peeta.”

 

“I know, but you'll get passed this moment and on to the next. You're so strong.” Her chin quivers, this time I reach out and touch it. And to my astonishment she doesn't jerk away from me, she leans into my touch.

 

“Will you hold my hand?” she asks. “Just for a while?” Her eyes are dark and sad and even if they weren't I'd have done it. I am helpless to her wants.

 

“I'd like that very much.” I whisper back.

 

 

 

_Katniss stands at attention as my mother readies our home for yet another party. The Cartwrights are coming for dinner and they have a daughter with a huge dowry. My mother has been in a fit for a week._

 

_“No running off Peeta, we need this match.” She gripes at me._

 

_“Yes, Mother.” I say, but Katniss fidgets in her dress and catches my eye. I throw a wink in her direction and she blushes, eyes falling to the floor._

 

_She frets over the state of the curtains, the wall tapestries and the good silver._

 

_“Mother, should I see to dinner?” I ask, giving Katniss a long look. She raises her eyebrow at me. “Make sure everything is in place.”_

 

_“I suppose you're not needed here but be back here by five sharp! And keep your clothes clean!” She doesn't even spare me a backward glance. As I back out of the room I grab Katniss by the hand and drag her with me._

 

_“What are you doing?” She trills when we're out of earshot of my mother. “I have to help decorate!”_

 

_“There are six girls in there helping and my mother can't tell the difference between them.” I say with an easy going smile. “You won't be missed.”_

 

_“You're going to get me fired.” She huffs._

 

_“I won't let that happen, Katniss.” I say, holding my hand out to help her down the stairs. She hikes up her skirt and ignores my hand._

 

_“I know this is a game to you but I need my job!”_

 

_Sae is downstairs, ordering the kitchen staff about. She ignores us. Katniss and I together in the kitchen is becoming common place to her._

 

_“This isn't a game to me Katniss.” I say, pulling her to a stop. “I would never jeopardize your job.” She glares at me._

 

_“But its such a nice day,” I whisper. “It'd be a shame to waste it inside.”_

 

_Her resolve is crumbling at the promise of a day out in the meadow._

 

_I tell myself I can't help it, she seems like a different person out there._

 

_She looks to the open door. The sky blazing blue, and the grass swaying in a gentle breeze._

 

_“If my mother asks I'll tell her I ordered you to milk Tanzy.”_

 

_“Your the only noble boy I know that names his cow.” She grumbles._

 

_“I'm the only noble boy you know.” I snap back. She rolls her eyes._

 

_“Come on, Katniss.” I say, and when she scowls at me I know I've won._

 

_She turns on her heel and huffs out the door._

 

_“Careful, Boy.” Sae says from behind me. I turn to look at her. Her hair, streaked gray is pulled back tightly in a knot at the base of her skull. Her hands are on her hips and her skirts are knotted up her legs. “You two are playing a dangerous game. You'll be forgiven, but what about my niece? She has her reputation to think of boy. She'll never have a future with you.”_

 

_I turn to look out the door, yawned open. I can smell the oleander in the forest, I can smell the violets in the garden. I can smell the muck from the barn and the bread from the oven._

 

_“I'd never do anything to hurt her.” I say fiercely. “We're friends.”_

 

_“Oh but boy, you will.” She says. “Whether you want to or not.”_

 

_“Peeta, are you coming or not?” Katniss calls. And I am helpless to stop my feet from sliding forward, even though Sae's warning is humming through my blood._

 

_At the last moment I grab a bottle of wine from the table and shove it into my jacket._

 

_“I saw that!” Sae calls._

 

_Katniss is standing in the sunshine in her dirty dress, hands on her hips, hair braided up and out of her face. For a moment all I can do is stare at her. The curve of her hips, her arms lean and bony, the graceful line of her neck and the spattering of freckles there that I haven't noticed before._

 

_Her lips curve upward in a small smile._

 

_“Look what I filched.” I say, pulling out the bottle of wine. “I say we go to the meadow and sample my mothers finest.”_

 

_She rolls her eyes but follows after me._

 

_“This dinner is going to be a disaster.” She whispers at me._

 

_“I think you're right about that, Sparrow.” I whisper back._

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bugger it.

_So, Peeta is drunk._

 

_He drank nearly all of the wine he nicked from the kitchen himself and he's giggling like an idiot as I practically drag him from the meadow to his house. I have to take the long route to the kitchen door to avoid curious eyes of townspeople out in the afternoon._

 

_A stable boy watches us curiously as I pull Peeta along like a child through the grass._

 

_“Miss, do you need help?” He says genuinely. He's just a boy of nine with dark hair and bony arms. I try to smile at him but I dread that he might say something to anyone and we'll be found out. I'll lose my job fast as you could snap your fingers. Mrs. Mellark has no patience for lay abouts, least of all dark haired ones._

 

_“No, Henry we're fine.” I say flatly. “Master Mellark just had a bit too much sun.”_

 

_“He looks drunk.” The boy says._

 

_“You look like you should be minding your own business.” I say tartly and he scampers off. I sigh._

 

_“You're so mean.” Peeta says with a snort. His words are slurred. He leans heavily on my shoulder._

 

_“Shut up,” I growl. “Daft idiot, you're going to get me fired.”_

 

_“Posies.” He says._

 

_“What?”_

 

_“Posies.” He says pointing to a cluster of flowers. His body stops and it nearly drags me down._

 

_“Peeta we don't have time for this,” I hiss. “Your mother is expecting you home and sober.”_

 

_“Just one moment.” He plucks a flower and hands it to me. Its a soft pink and I twirl it between my fingers uncertainly. “Pretty.” He says gently but he isn't looking at the flower, he is looking at me. I flush hotly and mumble out a thank you._

 

_He tries to bow but falls into the grass._

 

_I make a noise, somewhere between a groan and a scoff and stare up at the sky. It's endless and blue and the sun beats down on me. I'm sweating in my wool dress and Peeta just lays about like a lump._

 

_“Get up,” I say harshly._

 

_“I am.” He says._

 

_He hasn't moved._

 

_“Foxed idiot.” I grumble._

 

_“Peeta?” A voice calls from somewhere behind me. I whirl around, instinctively stepping in front of Peeta._

 

_A girl in a fine blue dress and a mop of golden curls stands there watching us curiously with hands on her hips. I've seen her in town before. Delly Cartwright. We've been caught. I slump and do my best to look contrite._

 

_“Peeta Mellark, is that you down there?” She says, she looks amused. Glad this is a joke to her. I'm about to lose my job._

 

_“Delly!” Peeta says like they are old friends, and who knows they could be. I crush the flower in my palm and drop it in the dirt. Let her help him to bed then. I feel my skin growing warm and I fear it has nothing to do with the heat._

 

_“Peeta Mellark your mother is having a right fit looking for you.” Her skirt whispers through the grass as she steps forward to study him._

 

_“I've been having the most wonderful afternoon.” He says. I roll my eyes behind Delly's back._

 

_“Is he drunk?” Delly asks turning to look at me. Her eyes appraise me and I duck a bit beneath her gaze._

 

_“I-I wouldn't know, found him like this.” I say woodenly. I am a terrible actress._

 

_“No, you didn't!” Peeta snaps._

 

_“Shut up.” I growl._

 

_Delly looks between us and then her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh,” She says._

 

_Suddenly I am scrambling for something to say._

 

_“No, it's not like that!” I practically shout. “I just-” I don't know how to explain it. What do I say? We're just friends? No one is going to believe Peeta Mellark, handsome, rich Peeta Mellark chooses to spend his time with a servant girl out in the woods because they are just friends._

 

_I drop my face into my hands and moan miserably. I'm losing my job for certain._

 

_“Peeta can you stand?” She asks._

 

_He hums something then laughs. Delly lets out a breath and turns back to me. “Can you help me get him up?” Her voice sounds kind, something that I am not expecting. I bite my lip and nod._

 

_Together we manage to get him up and through the door without anyone seeing us, but just as we are dragging him up the stairs Sae catches us, her hands covered in blood and feathers._

 

_Her eyebrows shoot up and her hands go to her hips immediately._

 

_I look at my boots, covered in grass and mud._

 

_“Whats for dinner?” Delly asks brightly._

 

_“I think I am going to be sick.” Peeta pipes up._

 

_I don't say a damned thing._

 

_“Goose.” Sae says flatly. I can feel her stare on me. I shift on my feet as Peeta slumps against me._

 

_“You smell nice.” He says in my ear._

 

_“Sounds delicious.” Delly chirps like nothing is wrong. I can cut the tension in the room with a knife._

 

_The silence is too much. For a few long moments we all just stand there._

 

_“What's wrong with Master Mellark?” Sae asks with a lilt in her voice. She knows exactly what is wrong with him. I wish she'd just move out of our way, he's heavy and his heat is baring into me through my dress._

 

_“Had a bit too much sun.” Delly says softly, brushing the curls back from his face. “Poor thing.” She says to his face. He smiles slightly, mouth parting slightly. She is a lot better at this than me._

 

_“Sun,” Sae grumbles back at us. Her stare hasn't left my face and I don't dare look at my aunt. “Best get him to bed then.” She steps out of our way and watches us drag him up the stairs._

 

_“I don't think she believes us,” Delly says to me like I am a friend, like she's known me for years. Maybe she's like that with everyone._

 

_“She saw him steal the wine.” I mumble._

 

_“I'm going to check if the coast is clear, wait here with him.” She says and disappears behind the door. He shifts and nearly knocks me over with his weight._

 

_“I'm sorry,” He mumbles into my shoulder._

 

_“Just don't throw up on me.” I mumble and he smiles against the fabric of my dress. I can feel his breath against my neck and it does something funny to my insides. It feels like I have a beehive where my stomach should be. I push his face roughly away from me._

 

_“You smell like pine trees.” He whispers._

 

_“Is that suppose to be a compliment?” I huff._

 

_“Okay,” Delly says throwing the door open. Light floods over me. “His mother and mine are in the dining hall, discussing my dowry like I am a brood mare.” She doesn't say that with an ounce of self pity, just a fact._

 

_She takes Peeta's arm and wraps it around her shoulder._

 

_We somehow manage to avoid servants and chamber maids as we drag Peeta to his room. He flops on his feather bed and Delly and I stand there, sweaty and out of breath._

 

_“Thank you,” I mumble weakly and she smiles brightly._

 

_“What is your name?” She asks. I swallow hard._

 

_“Oh, come on, I'm not a tattle.”_

 

_“Katniss,” I say to the floorboards._

 

_“I can see why he likes you, Katniss, you're very pretty.” She says. I fight the urge to scoff. I'm not a looker by any means. Delly is though, she has big blue eyes and being well fed has made her curvy where I am a twig. Thin and bony._

 

_“Are you excited for your dinner this evening?” I ask, my fingers twist in my skirts. Delly rolls her eyes upward and smirks at me._

 

_“Don't get me wrong, I love Peeta, we've known each other since we were just babes, but I don't love him like a wife should love a husband.” She sits at the edge of the bed, ruffling the gold bedspread. “This wouldn't be a real marriage.” She shrugs her shoulders._

 

_Why is she talking to me like a friend? I'm just a servant._

 

_As if remembering where I am I dip my head in her direction and take my leave._

 

_“Katniss, wait!” She calls, and I pause with my hand on the doorknob. “You should stay with him. I'll tell his mother he isn't well and that I've instructed you to care for him.” She practically pushes me toward the already passed out Peeta._

 

_“Um, yes ma'am,” I say, shuffling forward._

 

_“No need for the ma'am we're friends now.” She says merrily. I still dip my head when she leaves the room._

 

_I sigh and flop onto the bed next to Peeta and listen to his heavy breath next to my ear. I look around the room._

 

_Is room is bathed in golds and creams. It isn't anything like I've seen before. Rich textiles and mahogany wood. It doesn't fit with the boy I know in the meadow. I wonder if his mother had the room decorated? Probably, she rules over this house with an iron fist._

 

 

 

_“I'm sorry I ruined your afternoon.” Peeta says next to me and I jolt._

 

_“I thought you were asleep,” I grumble._

 

_“I was,” His voice is heavy._

 

_“You didn't ruin my afternoon, It was quite nice until you couldn't walk on your own anymore.” I say. “Go back to sleep.” His eyes slide shut like he was waiting for my permission._

 

_Then his fingers twine with mine. Its like I have been tethered to the bed. I can't move for fear of waking him, or at least that is what I tell myself. Truth is, my skin is humming where his warm hand is connected with mine. I don't understand it but it feels so nice I let myself be held down and I find myself studying him carefully in the late afternoon sun that drips in through the window._

 

_His eyelashes are so long and pale I don't know how they don't tangle when he blinks. He has a light dusting of freckles across his nose, just a hair darker than the rest of his skin. I scoot up on the bed to get a better look. I resist the urge to reach my fingers out to touch the soft skin of his pink lips. The tops of his ears are tinged red from the sun._

 

_His pillows are much softer than the rough ones made out of burlap at home. His bed is better too. Mine is made of canvas and straw but his is goose feather and I find myself growing heavy, like my bones are made of wood. Maybe the sun got to me. I say to myself, letting my eyes slide shut._

 

_Almost immediately I am asleep._

 

 

I slip out of the barn early. It smells like woodsmoke and pine out here and inhale deeply. Any other day I might be tempted to go out and explore the surrounding woods but I am on a mission and we have to leave, the sooner the better.

 

I climb the hillsides, careful to leave a trail for myself to follow to get back. When I find what I am looking for I can't help but smile. Prim has tried to teach me about healing and I always scoffed at her, It's good to see that not every word she said was completely lost on me.

 

I scrape up some bark from a willow tree.

 

Its a long walk back but I make it in record time. I stoke up a small fire and focus entirely on the task at hand. When the tea is brewed I stamp out the fire and make my way back to the barn. Rue is awake, skinning a rabbit for our breakfast. I nod curtly at her and ignore the fire in my stomach at her curious look.

 

“Peeta?” I shake him awake and he blinks up at me for a moment like he doesn't believe I am real. “I made you some tea, it should help with the pain.” I say handing him the clay cup in my hand.

 

“Thanks,” He whispers softly, making a face as he takes a sip.

 

“Sorry,” I mumble. “I probably should have warned you it tastes like dirt.”

 

“It's fine really, thank you.” His voice comes out hoarse. He hasn't complained once since being struck by that man's arrow. It must be painful. His face is white and drawn. I glance down at my hands.

 

“We're going to four?” He says.

 

“Yes, Finnick is from four, his grandmother still lives there.” I say. “She might be able to hide us.”

 

“Its a big district.” He says. I forgot he has traveled all over, met girls from every district. Wooed them. I feel like my insides are made of stone suddenly. Cold and hard.

 

“How is your shoulder?” I ask with a bit of venom in my voice. I sigh, really is it so hard for me to be nice?

 

“It hurts, but I suppose its to be expected.” He sits up, wincing as he does. “How are you faring?” Right, I acted like a blithering idiot last night.

 

“I'm fine, really.” I whisper.

 

“Katniss-” Whatever long winded speech he is about to give me is cut off by Johanna and Finnick stomping into the room. I take my leave, practically running toward them.

 

I turn back to look at him and I wish I didn't.

 

He looks horribly disappointed with me.

 

XX.XX

 

We leave our horses at the livery stable and walk into the district. The earth here is soft and spongy and not at all like the red clay dirt of district twelve. The air is heavy with the promise of rain and a temperamental fog has rolled in, making it hard to see.

 

We still see it.

 

A man with his shirt ripped open, tied to a post. His back is already raw and bloodied but it doesn't stop the peacekeeper from striking him with the whip. Each time the sickening sound of leather meeting skin and then the man's agonized cries follow after. I feel bile rising in my throat.

 

“That peacekeeper is killing that man.” Peeta says, horror stricken.

 

“Keep walking, mate.” Finnick pushes Peeta forward, his green eyes not casting a glance in the direction of the whipping post.

 

“We can't just keep walking!” Peeta protests. “We have to stop him.”

 

“Keep walking Peeta.” I snap. It is hard to keep my own feet moving, but I do.

 

“But-”

 

“I said to keep walking.” I hiss softly. “There is nothing you can do to help him.”

 

Peeta looks around at us and I duck my head at his judgmental gaze. I haven't forgotten that the world has allocated him certain kindnesses that it hasn't the rest of us. In twelve, it is his family that rules the land, and his father is a kind man with little stomach for whippings and when Haymitch was sheriff they were nearly non-existent. Cray is a different sort of man, with different tastes.

 

Here, Peeta is no one, with little power.

 

“Come on.” I say, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward. “Just try not to listen.”

 

“Is that how you survive seeing them?” He asks.

 

“The only way I know how.” I drag him forward and he allows me to pull him up onto the cobblestone road.

 

After months in the forest the noise is almost too much. Fishwives shout to each other in the crowded roads. The houses here aren't like the huts we live in back in twelve, they are made of brick and families are practically stacked on one another. Children play in the street, ducking out of the way of carriages and horses. Men stand crowded around the brothels and bars like flocking birds. Then there is the sea wall and beyond that the spray of the ocean against rocks.

 

I tuck my braid up into my cap and pull my collar up against my neck.

 

I glance over at Finnick, he isn't smiling, he's just staring.

 

“Good to be home?” I ask him.

 

He shrugs his shoulders.

 

“Come along then.” Johanna says, grasping Finnicks hand and yanking him forward.

 

We're swallowed by the crowd.

 

 

 

XX.XX

 

Finnick goes to find his grandmother. Johanna, Gale and Rue go to secure a room at an inn. Peeta, Darius and I end up in a tavern, waiting. The building is filled to the brim with men singing bawdy songs along to a lute. Its loud and raucous and I crave the quiet solitude of my woods I've left behind. We three quietly disband and move through the crowd separately. Peeta steps up to the man at the bar and pulls out a sack of coins I can't stop staring at.

 

Where has he been hiding that I wonder?

 

Darius has already been stopped by a woman of ill repute, her arm slung over his shoulder as her red lipstick smears on his neck.

 

“What can I get for you, boy?” The man at the bar asks me and I startle. I forgot my braid was tucked up into my hat. I tug it down over my eyes and do my best to order three ales in a deeper voice.

 

When I turn around Peeta has found a table in the corner, away from the crowd and I push through the throng of people, ale sloshing on my sleeves. He's ordered us food. Lamb rubbed in rosemary and sea salt, so tender it falls off the bone and beer bread, still warm. My mouth waters at the sight of it.

 

“Thought you might be hungry.” He says, motioning me to sit.

 

“How'd you know I'd be starving?” I ask lightly, taking a sip of my ale.

 

“You're always starving.” He says quietly, with little humor. I think he is still thinking of the man at the post. I sigh and set down my mug. He glances up at the same time as I do and our eyes meet at the middle of the table. We just look at each other for awhile.

 

“Well, dig in.” He says finally, leaning back in his chair.

 

“What about you?” I ask, grabbing up a slice of bread and shoving it in my mouth. Oh, it has butter. I can't remember the last time I have had real butter, maybe never in my life.

 

“It seems I don't have much of an appetite,” He says softly. “How is your bread?” He asks.

 

“Delicious, but not as good as yours.” I admit with my mouth full. At this I am rewarded with the barest hint of a smile. His fingers reach out as if he is going to touch my cheek, but then he thinks better of it and retracts his hand. “You've got some butter on your lip.” He says and I lick my lips. I feel my cheeks warming and I glance away so he can't see. Even after all this time, he has such an effect on me.

 

“Katniss, I-” His voice cuts out as he swallows.

 

“Don't pretend you've never seen a whipping before.” I say rather sourly.

 

“It was different.” He says softly. “That peacekeeper wasn't going to stop. That man-”

 

“Is dead now,” I snarl. “It's better not to think on it too long.”

 

“Katniss, I am afraid.” He says.

 

“Why? You have nothing to fear.” I say with a shake of my head.

 

“It could be you.” He says.

 

I swallow my bread and it goes down in a hard lump. “It's simpler than starving to death, isn't it?” I try to give him a wry smile. I can tell by his expression he isn't buying it.

 

“Katniss, don't die for a district that doesn't care for you.”

 

“How would you know, who cares for me or not?” I snarl back at him.

 

His eyes fall to the table. His finger follows the edge back and forth.

 

“I wouldn't- I know nothing of it,” He whispers. I can hardly hear him over the din of the music. “Nothing at all.”

 

XX.XX

 

I've barely spoken to Peeta in the last hour. We sit across from each other but we might as well be miles apart. Darius has disappeared with a woman and I've been staring down at my half drunk ale for the last good while. I pick at my food halfheartedly and sigh. I finally lean forward and rest my head on my hands and let my eyes slide shut. I am so tired I fear I might fall right out of my chair. Where is Gale? My eyes slit open at a crash to my right as a drunk falls right off his stool.

 

That is when I spy it. A purse of coins, brazenly left at the edge of a table. The man it belongs to is deep in conversations with a woman in a low cut dress. It's almost too easy. I look to the man again, in a deep purple cloak, clearly well fed, surely he wouldn't miss the coin? I glance at Peeta, who is now speaking to a woman. She has dark hair piled onto her head and she juts her chest out sharply as she speaks. It is not terribly subtle and Peeta looks rather uncomfortable but I don't move to save him from his predicament. In fact, if I weren't dead tired it might be humorous.

 

He isn't paying any attention to me so I stand up and slip through the people packed into the building like sardines. It smells like sour sweat and sawdust in here.

 

I walk with purpose, straight for the door and just as I pass the man in the purple robe I reach my fingers out and graze the velvet bag. I snatch it in a fluid motion and slip it into my pocket. No one bats an eye in my direction and I smile a little to myself. I haven't lost my touch.

 

I am almost to the door when the peacekeeper grabs me.

 

“Hold up, boy.” He sneers in my ear. “I saw that.”

 

Bugger it.

 

“Saw what?” I say as he drags me out the door and drops me hard on the cobblestones. Another peacekeeper joins him and he kicks me, hard.

 

Hot, white stars in my vision. My ribs feel like they've shattered. I hear the light tinkling of coins in my cloak. All I can do is try and wheeze in what little air I can as I am drug up by my collar and pushed roughly against the rough brick of the building. My hat has gone flying off and a few buttons popped off my shirt as I was hefted up.

 

“Not a boy at all, this one.”

 

Cold dread prickles my spine.

 

“You know what the punishment for theft is in these parts?” One of the peacekeeper's grinds out, leering at me. It's like my insides are made of ice. “It's a stint on the post, it is.” He says. “If you're lucky you might lose your hand.”

 

I can't move. I don't dare so much as breathe.

 

They are drunk on power and I fear there might be a stop before I reach the post, the way they are looking at me it is almost a certainty.

 

“She's going to lose more than that.” The other one says with a laugh. This awakens something primal in me. I shove the hands roughly away from me and reach behind my back for an arrow before I realize that I had hidden it before I reached the district. I have no choice but to push and claw and kick at my attackers. My heart galloping in my chest violently.

 

Please.

 

Please, no.

 

Its a plea, a prayer. I keep it tucked safely in my throat. I will not beg to letches. I will not scream. They will not have the satisfaction. But I release it to the sky in a long look at the stars, pleading in my mind to anyone who might be listening.

 

“We've got a fighter.” One says with a laugh. I expel a hard breath and push against the hands that are now everywhere. Without my bow I am helpless to these men and they know it.

 

“Unhand her, you savages.” A low voice says from my right. “Or I will have your life.”

 

Oh, good.

 

Peeta's here.

 

One of the men has his hand wrapped around my arm, I feel his grip tighten on me so hard there are sure to be bruises.

 

“And who might you be?” The peacekeeper sneers.

 

Peeta steps into the dim light of the streetlamp. They recognize him, I can see it flash in their eyes.

 

Fear.

 

“Your Grace.” One of them says. I feel his grip ease and fall against the building, my head lolling.

 

Peeta catches me before I fall.

 

He winces when I hit his shoulder. I'm shaking and I know he can feel it, the way his arm wraps around my waist.

 

“Whole country has been looking for you.” One peacekeeper says, he has dishwater eyes. Cold and calculating. “Feared you were dead. Killed by the bandit Mockingjay.”

 

They've heard of me. How far does my reputation reach? I see a glint in Peeta's eye. I know the peacekeepers have as well.

 

“So, the Mockingjay ain't a bird at all,” He says with an edge in his voice. “Or a boy.”

 

Peeta has a blade out in an instant. A small knife that fit in his pocket. How long has he had that? We all left our weapons in the woods outside of the district. Trying to blend in with the townsfolk.

 

“I suggest you walk away now, with your life, sir or I will let the Mockingjay rip you to pieces right here.”

 

He lets me go and I fall onto the ground as he steps forward and presses the tip of the knife against the man's open and exposed throat. I've never heard a voice like that come from Peeta. It sets me on the edge of my skin. His voice echoes in my ringing ears.

 

“Peeta,” I whisper but he doesn't so much as look at me.

 

“Now I suggest we all just calm down.” A voice booms from the doorway.

 

The man in the purple robe. He stands with spine straight and proud, still sipping his drink. His dark eyes look at me and I wipe away some blood that has dripped out of my nose. I tuck my hair back into place and finally pull my shirt closed.

 

“I do not wish to press charges against these two for what has been lost.” The man says drolly. “I shouldn't have left my purse unguarded in the first place.” He waves his hand at the men.

 

“Sir, do you know who we have here?”

 

“I am well aware.” The man says. “And I command you to walk away. She is in my charge now and I think the two of you have done enough damage.”

 

The peacekeepers duck there heads at the man and head back inside.

 

“It seems you have made quite a name for yourself, young lady.” He says at me.

 

“Yes,” I spit. “And you can see where it's gotten me.”

 

Peeta hands me his coat and I pull it on. When I have it over my shirt he secures the top button. His fingers tilt my chin up.

 

“Are you alright?” He asks, fingers brushing my cheekbone. I wince but nod.

 

“And Peeta Mellark, It is so good to see you again.” The man bows low at Peeta.

 

“Plutarch.” Peeta says without any fondness in his voice. “I wish I could say the same.”

 

“The last time I saw you, you were due to be wed to Margret Undersee, Of district one. A smart match.” Plutarch says. “She was devastated to hear of your death in the woods at the hand of the bandits. But look here you are, alive and well, in district four.”

 

“My death, what are you talking about?”

 

“They found a shirt identified as yours in a clearing yesterday afternoon, covered in blood. The district has been in mourning. Your funeral is set for next week.”

 

“Well, I hate to disappoint but I am alive and well, sir.” Peeta bites out. I try to stand on legs still shaking. I lean heavily on Peeta, whose hand goes to the small of my back to steady me.

 

“Yes, your mother will be relieved.” Plutarch says, his eyes twinkling.

 

“You, Mockingjay, your real name?”

 

I grind my teeth together and stare daggers at him. He laughs lightly. I look up at Peeta as his grip tightens on me. I tuck my nose against the collar of his jacket and try to look meek, unoffensive. A harmless little girl.

 

“Girl I just saved you.” Plutarch says. “If I wished either of you dead I would have let those letches have the both of you.”

 

“Peeta, who is this man?” I whisper.

 

“Plutarch Heavensbee,” He says coldly. “Magistrate to the king.”

 

Plutarch bows low at this.

 

I manage to scoff at him.

 

“What do you want with me?” I snarl.

 

He smiles brightly at me. “That is a conversation that we don't need overheard young one. You will meet me in two weeks time at this address.” He hands Peeta a piece of torn parchment and I try not to look offended that he handed it to a man, instead of me. “Where we can talk in private.”

 

He turns to walk away.

 

“Don't you want your coin back?” I ask.

 

“No, pet.” He laughs. “You keep it, I have a fear you might be needing it.”

 

With that he disappears back into the tavern.

 

XX.XX

 

Gale secured us a room.

 

He holds the door open for me as I breeze through and head straight for the bed.

 

“Katniss, are you alright?” He asks, glaring daggers at Peeta, who shrugs at him and keeps walking.

 

I had begged Peeta not to tell anyone what happened outside of the tavern and he keeps his promise. He doesn't say anything and keeps his distance, watching me from across the room.

 

I can still feel the hands on me. I can feel hot breath against my neck. I screw my eyes shut and heave air into my lungs though I cannot taste it in my mouth.

 

My magpie tendencies have got me into trouble before but this was a cost I wasn't willing to pay.

 

Johanna and Rue are downstairs, ordering dinner for the rest of them with the coins I stole from Plutarch. I only told them that I filched the coin from a man.

 

Gale isn't buying it. I've changed my shirt but my bloodied lip is cause for a raised eyebrow in my direction.

 

“Katniss, I know something happened.” Gale says, his words sharp as a knife. “Tell me, please.”

 

“Nothing happened, I-I-I fell.”

 

“Right, You fell,” He snorts. “And I am the king of Panem.”

 

“Leave it, Hawthorne.” Peeta says suddenly. He glares at Gale.

 

“I suggest you mind your business, your grace.” Gale sneers.

 

“Knock it off, the both of you.” I snarl. “I think I have had about enough of men and their pissing contests for one night.”

 

I see recognition glint in Gale's eyes. Shame floods me. I look down at my boots.

 

“Peeta, leave us please.” I say softly.

 

He does as I have asked him.

 

Gale waits until the door is shut firmly, but I can see his fists balling at his sides. “Who was it?” His teeth are gritted together.

 

“Peacekeepers.”

 

“Did they-”

 

“No,” I say firmly. “No, Peeta stopped them.” I say.

 

“Katniss you take such liberty with your life.” His voice almost sounds tender. “What if he hadn't been there? What if I lost you?”

 

I hate the sound of his voice at this very moment, the edge that has crept into it. It sounds like I am his property. A great prize he has won.

 

“I have never been yours to lose.”

 

“Its a good match, Katniss.” He says. “We could move away from the districts, live life free in the woods. I can offer you security.” It is practical. And didn't I tell Peeta that I wanted that life? So long ago its like faded fabric in my memory.

 

“And what of Prim?” I say aloud. “And your brothers, your little sister?” I ask.

 

“They can come with us.”

 

I laugh. “Prim in the woods.” I say to myself.

 

“I could make you happy.” He whispers, sitting at the edge of the bed and tilting my chin up. I feel a lump in my throat that won't go away. My fingers tangle with his and I see in his smile that he thinks he has won. I push his fingers away from my skin.

 

“It will never work Gale,” I say stiffly. “Besides, I can't think of that right now. I am the most wanted person in Panem.”

 

“We'll run.”

 

“What of the others?” I snarl. The heat of anger is taking over. “What of Rue and Finnick and Johanna? Huh, we leave them to the gallows?”

 

“What of him, you mean?” He points his chin in the direction of the door.

 

“Yes,” I whisper “What of him?”

 

“He is engaged, Katniss. Even if he weren't he could not offer you anything. He has to marry someone of noble blood... someone like him.”

 

It stings like salt in a wound. I most certainly am not someone like Peeta. Peeta is royal, yes but he is also kind and gentle. And me? I'm as feral as they come. Survival has always been the name of the game and I have played it so well. The truth is like bitter hops, sour in my mouth.

 

“Leave me.” I snarl.

 

“Katniss-”

 

“I said get out.” I whisper. I screw my eyes shut and wait to hear the click of the door that tells me I am completely alone.

 

Then I fall apart.

 

It starts quiet. A lone tear streaming hot down my skin. Then as the inferno riles in my chest I am pulling down the already tattered curtains, stomping the floor, yanking the itchy wool blankets from the bed.

 

I fall into a heap on the floor.

 

I don't really understand why I am crying, maybe its because I never really allowed myself to really do it before. I've always had someone else to look out for, but right now, I am feeling very sorry for myself. I tuck into a ball and stare until the tears dry to salt on my face.

 

“Sparrow?”

 

“Hello, Peeta.” My voice is weak.

 

He sits next to me, the floorboards creak under his weight.

 

“Are you sure you are alright?” He asks me for the millionth time this evening.

 

“I've made such a mess of things, and I put you right in the thick of it.” I whisper. “I'm sorry.”

 

I roll over to look at him. He smiles at me wryly. “You've always had a gift for trouble, but Katniss, those men, their actions were there own. You did nothing to warrant it.”

 

“Peeta, will I ever see my sister again?” I ask, I sound like a small child. Because I am terrified that I will never see those blue eyes again. All she has is me, what will she do if I am arrested? Tossed in prison? Hung? This thought terrifies me more than what those men could have done to me.

 

“Of course you will.”

 

My head winds its way into his lap and he pets my hair. Its soothing and I feel the lump in my throat slowly dissolving, my eyelids heavy, I allow myself to drift, until I fall, finally, into oblivion and for once, I don't dream of flames licking at my skin, of gallows, or men felled by my arrow, but of flowers, posies, bright and pink on a summers day.

 

What a wonderful dream.

 

XX.XX

 

I awaken to find the fire in the hearth has burnt out long ago. Everyone has tucked themselves into different corners of the room, but Peeta is still leaned against the wall, his eyes open and red rimmed, like he hasn't slept a wink.

 

“You're awake,” He says softly, fingers still skimming my scalp. I stretch out. Someone has removed my boots, but left my socks on, someone has also draped one of the blankets over me.

 

I see Johanna and Rue shared the bed while Finnick and Darius are sound asleep on the floor.

 

“You had a trying day, no one wanted to wake you.” He whispers.

 

“You told them?” I wheeze. My ribs still ache from where I was kicked.

 

“Just that you were stopped by peacekeepers and they got a little rough.” He says.

 

“Did Finnick find his Grandmother?” I ask.

 

“Yes, we'll leave at first light.”

 

“Thank you Peeta,” I whisper, letting my eyes slide shut.

 

“For what?”

 

“Being you.”

 

XX.XX

 

 

Finnicks grandmother speaks in riddles.

 

I can barely keep up with her garbled speak but Finnick seems to be following along just fine and he translates her words back to us. Most of it is nonsense. She is a short, stooped woman with eyes that are milky and white.

 

It unnerves me but Finnick says she went blind years ago. And then he adds cryptically that her other senses has been heightened.

 

She lives in a thatched house at the edge of the district, near the beach. She moved here years back after her daughter died. This is where Finnick grew. Next to the sand and salt and waves. I ask her if she fears being an old woman living alone so far from anyone. She just waves my concern away.

 

“Its better for her here.” Finnick says softly.

 

“Why?” I ask.

 

“People tend to talk less. Out of sight, out of mind. That sort of thing.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“There was talk that she was a witch years ago.” Finnick shifts his weight. “They nearly burned her.”

 

My finger runs along the scars on my arms and I shiver.

 

“Why would they think that?”

 

“Sometimes she sees things.” Finnick says, ducking his head.

 

“As in, she is a seer?” I stumble over my words. Seers are a thing of legend in Panem. People who can see the future. People who know about things before they happen. Load of rubbish, in my opinion, still when the woman looks at me with those blank eyes I feel dread run cold in my blood. What could she see in my future?

 

Finnicks grandmother, Mags, mumbles then points her finger against my chest.

 

“What?” I ask.

 

“She says you frown too much,” Finnick says.

 

I roll my eyes at him.

 

Mags makes us a breakfast of cold cornmeal mush and milk. Not nutritional in the least, but filling enough. I make sure to offer her coin for her food but she shakes her head vehemently and pats Finnick on the chest.

 

She tends to Peeta's wound. Dipping her bony fingers into a salve and smearing it into the puncture as I wince. A fresh bandage and she pats Peeta on the head, muttering something as she walks out of the room.

 

“What'd she say?” I ask Finnick, he laughs.

 

“Said if she was forty years younger, you'd have some competition.” He smiles at me wryly as I smack his arm. Out of the corner of my eye I see Peeta blush. I toss his shirt at him. It hits him squarely in the face.

 

 

XX.XX

 

Peeta and I end up on the beach.

 

I've never seen the ocean before, its huge and endless. The gray waves roll against the shore and I creep forward on bare feet so the cold water can run over my toes.

 

I watch the gulls sink and sail in the endless blue sky.

 

Peeta creeps up on me. That's a feat.

 

“What are you thinking about?” He ask.

 

“The ocean,” I say softly. Turning to look at him. He's dressed in a dark tunic and tan pants, he looks like he could be a peasant boy, out to go to work mending nets on a ship. Not one of the richest men in all of Panem.

 

The wind tousles his waves.

 

I look away.

 

“Are you going to tell the others?' He asks. “About Plutarch?”

 

“I suppose I'll have to.” I mumble.

 

“When?” He asks.

 

“Tomorrow,” I say. “Today, I just wish to be a girl, seeing the ocean for the first time.”

 

“Right,” He says with a soft smile. The sun is shining just right on his face. His eyes are so bright. “Might I join a girl on a beach for a stroll?” He asks.

 

For this moment it is easy to pretend, that we aren't who we are.

 

I dip my head in his direction. “I'd be honored your g-” I cut myself off sharply. “Peeta.” He smiles up at me. Then he takes my hand in his. Its warm and strong and I had forgotten how safe he always made me feel.

 

I, more than anything I want to feel safe.

 

We walk, and we talk about anything and everything and nothing at all. And when the sunset comes, as it always does. We fall into the sand to watch the sky a fire with oranges and pinks bleeding together in a beautiful tangle of color.

 

I want to fall into it.

 

Forget my very name and sail across the ocean to somewhere safe. If there is even such a place anymore. Like a bird. Not a mockingjay but a sparrow.

 

“Orange, its your favorite color, right?” I ask him suddenly. Peeta smiles crookedly.

 

“I am surprised you remember that.” He says.

 

“Why wouldn't I?”

 

“You've never been very good at paying attention.” he says.

 

“Fine, Mr. Know-it-all, what's mine then?”

 

“Green.” He says immediately.

 

I feel myself lean back. “I am surprised you remember that.” I say haughtily.

 

“I remember everything about you.” He says softly, almost to himself.

 

“I highly doubt that.” I mumble back.

 

“I remember that mesmerizing little freckle on your back, right here.” He says, his hand brushing the small of my back. I squeak and scoot away from him.

 

“I don't know who you think you are, Peeta Mellark, But-” My words are cut off by his eyes, looking at me, wide and sad.

 

I don't know who leans in first, but our lips brush just slightly. We both jolt back.

 

“I-I have to go.” I jump up and run like I've been hit by lightning.

 

Peeta doesn't follow me.

 

 

XX.XX

 

We settle in for the night and I don't have the courage to look at Peeta directly so I watch out of the corner of my eye as he strips off his tunic. I feel myself turn berry red when I catch his eye. The blithering idiot has the nerve to wink in my direction. I tilt my chin up and storm off, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing the way I press my fingers to my lips, remembering the way his lips warmed mine.

 

Then I smile.

 

My skin tightens on my cheeks, reminding me of the tight, pink scars on my back and neck and arms. I feel my smile sail away on the wind.

 

If only he could see me down to my skin. He'd know that freckle isn't there anymore, replaced by shiny, new skin.

 

I am not the girl he remembers.

 

Mags passes out blankets. She says something to me as she hands me the blanket, clucking sympathetically and patting my cheek with her sand weathered fingers.

 

“What did she say, Finnick?” I ask.

 

He is quiet a long time.

 

“Finnick?” I press.

 

“She said-” He runs his hands through his bronze hair. “She said that he will be the death of you.” His voice is stilted, quiet.

 

“Who?” I ask, but I already know the answer. My eyes find Peeta, who is talking to Johanna by the fire.

 

“Peeta.”

 

I swallow and nod.

 

“I fear she might be right about that.” I say softly.

 

 

XX.XX

 

_I awake in the half light of evening. Some one has their arm wrapped around my middle and I relish in the warmth of them. I want to burrow down and hide beneath the smell of cinnamon and cloves and vanilla that clings to the shirt. Then I startle up because I remember it is Peeta Mellarks bed that I am in._

 

_I jolt across the room and work on smoothing down my hair and taming the wrinkles in my skirt. I am tucking a strand of hair back from my face when a knock comes at the door._

 

_“Oh, bloody hell.” I mumble and cross the room._

 

_“Katniss, Mrs Mellark instructed me to bring this to Master Mellark.” It's Leevy, another kitchen girl. She's laden down with a tray full of food. Roasted goose and steamed vegetables and a raspberry tart. Food forbidden to people like me, unless we are preparing it._

 

_“I'll take it to him.” I snap, grabbing the tray from her arms and staring at her until she smirks at me and turns on her heel._

 

_“Your Aunt is asking for you.” She says smartly and I roll my eyes at her back. I slam the door shut with my foot._

 

_I set the tray down on the bed next to Peeta and stare at him. He's out cold, his mouth parted as he snores, just slightly._

 

_“Peeta,” I shake his shoulder. “Peeta wake up.” He mumbles something and rolls away from me._

 

_“Peeta!” I shout and he jolts up, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth._

 

_“Welcome back.” I sneer with more venom than I intended to. I sigh and school my face into a more friendly expression._

 

_“What's all this?” He asks._

 

_“Your dinner, your grace.” I say with a bow. “Now that you are up I must take my leave, I fear my Aunt is looking for me.” I turn to leave but he grabs my hand and pulls me down to sit next to him on the bed._

 

_“Katniss, please help me.” He says._

 

_I feel my stomach roll. “What is it?” I ask._

 

_“I can't possibly eat all of this by myself, and my stomach is in knots, please help me eat some of this. I'd hate for it to go to waste.” I feel something hot in my blood. Something that spits and pops in my chest like hot oil._

 

_“I am not your charity case, Peeta. I am not your pet. I can take care of myself. And it serves you right that your stomach isn't well, drunk idiot.”_

 

_“I've heard this song and dance darling, it's starting to get old.” I glance back at him to see he has removed his shirt and is riffling through a wardrobe._

 

_I flush and my eyes fall to my feet._

 

_“What are you doing?”_

 

_“Changing my shirt, why?” He says absently, his head already shoved into another shirt. I see the barest glimpse of his chest, plain and broad before he slips the shirt over his skin. I've seen naked men before, my mother is a healer, still his body is strong and capable and young and I feel something strange in the pit of my stomach._

 

_“Sorry,” I mumble at my feet. “I'll go.”_

 

_“Just eat something please,” He sounds exasperated. Like he's dealing with a wayward child._

 

_I grab the raspberry tart just to shut him up._

 

_“Excellent choice, I should have known that you'd pick the tart.”_

 

_“How would you know?” I snort._

 

_“You have a weakness for sweet things.” He smiles at me and I forget the tart, melting in my hand or the whispers of the other servants from behind the door. I seem to even forget my name for an instant. Before the world comes crashing back in._

 

_“I think you might be right about that.” I say and flee the room like I am on fire._

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whatever he does want, I'll be there Katniss and I won't abandon you.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Why not?” She laughs bitterly. Stands and brushes herself off. She is shielding me from the sun when she says it, so she has no features, just a darkness, a shadow. “I abandoned you.”

_I go looking for her._

 

_I can't help it._

 

_I've never been to the Seam except in passing. I've never stopped to appreciate the slums. The caving huts and dirty children that dot the landscape. Its only a quarter mile down the road but I might as well be in a different country. People stop and openly stare at me as I walk the road, I hear my name in a collective hushed whisper throughout the district._

 

_I keep my head bowed respectively. I am not a lord here, nor a king. I am the tyrant that has it all while they starve. Even if I am just a boy._

 

_Someone not so far off sneers something in my direction. I ignore it and keep my boots going forward._

 

_I realize what a mistake this is now. I don't know how I am going to find Katniss. The seam is larger than I expected and everyone here has the same look about them. Dark hair, dark skin, mistrustful gray eyes that never linger on a face too long._

 

_That's when I see the marketplace._

 

_The doors of an old barn have been thrown open and people have stalls made out of whatever scraps of wood they could find. I can smell the dust, thick and cloying, the horse manure and something like daffodils. People are everywhere. Young men laugh as they rush to catch up to a group of girls in ragged skirts, children dart this way and that, a woman has a few silver trinkets that she is trying to peddle desperately, her frantic pleas echo around me as I spin, trying to take it all in._

 

_A whore calls from across the yard, smiling in my direction._

 

_“You look lost, sir.” A voice says from behind me. I whirl around, ignoring the whine from the lady of the night._

 

_“I could say the same of you, young one.” I answer back. It's a girl, with two blonde braids, hands on her hips. She looks no more than ten, but seems right at home among the dregs and thieves and whores that seem to dot this place._

 

_“It's better not to dawdle, the pickpockets can smell fear.” Her eyebrows raise in my direction._

 

_“Um, perhaps you might be able to help me?”_

 

_“I doubt that I would, In a fine coat like that sir who would I be to give you advice? Perhaps you can help me and tell me where I can procure such fine silk.” She says cheekily. When she smiles I notice that her front tooth is missing._

 

_“My name is Peeta Mellark.”_

 

_Her eyes rolls skyward._

 

_“I know exactly who you are Master Mellark, as does every Pickpocket in a ten mile radius, come, walk with me.” She picks up a bucket at her feet and hands it to me._

 

 

_I have no choice but to follow her._

 

_We walk up through the dusty streets and passed the shacks where women, thin and bony stare out from dark doorways._

 

_We make our way toward the well where she pumps water into the bucket I am holding._

 

_Then we turn back._

 

_“I am looking for a girl,” I say. The girl throws one of her braids over her shoulder and laughs._

 

_“It seems you've found one.” I am careful not to spill any of the water as we make our way back down the hill, toward the seam._

 

_“Her name is Katniss Everdeen.” I say hopefully. This stops her in her tracks, she spins around and appraises me._

 

_“What do you want with Katniss Everdeen?” She turns up her nose to glare at me._

 

_“Um, that is no business of yours.” I grumble, this little sprite isn't being helpful in the least and from what I can tell she just wants me to carry her pail for her._

 

_“I should say it is.” She bites out saucily. She steps forward and appraises me with wide blue eyes. She looks like the woman that live in town, not like she should be living in the seam. In a sea of raven haired people we both stick out like sore thumbs. “She's my sister.”_

 

_I nearly drop the bucket._

 

_“You're Primrose.”_

 

_“Just Prim,” She says with a smirk. “So, as I said, what do you want with my elder sister?”_

 

_Well, what do I say?_

 

_She hasn't been to work and that worries me?_

 

_I've missed our outings to the woods?_

 

_I fear she is hurt?_

 

_I missed her?_

 

_“Sae sent me to see why she hasn't been to work.” I say. Normally I am a skilled liar when I need to be. Not today, under Primrose's watchful stare._

 

_“You're full of it.” She says with a laugh._

 

_“I-I-” There is no use in arguing, we both know she is right._

 

_“If you must know,” She says. “Mother kept her home, she has a fever.”_

 

_“She's sick?” I can't stop my mouth from dipping into a concerned frown._

 

_“She'll be alright, Master Mellark, A few days rest will do her some good.”_

 

_She is standing in front a hut, identical to the ones around it. Smoke lilts up from the chimney and a goat bleats from a hut in the back. I hand her the pail as I look around._

 

_“Would you like to go in to say hello?” Prim asks, her eyes twinkling with mischeif._

 

_I feel so stupid. I shouldn't of come here._

 

_“No-No I don't so.” I say softly, already turning away._

 

_Prim grabs my wrist, pulling me to a gentle stop. Suddenly I hear a soft gasp and the weight of her hand disappears as she remembers herself._

 

_“I beg your pardon, Master Mellark.” She says with a duck of her head. No longer is the carefree little girl I met mere moments ago. “I forgot my place.”_

 

_I could have her whipped for touching me with out permission._

 

_“Please, do not fear me.” I say, and its a demand._

 

_She looks at me like I am puzzle for a long moment._

 

_“I couldn't bare it from a girl as beautiful as you.”_

 

_She smiles, cheeks stained red, and I can see why Katniss tries so hard to protect her. She is as precious as moonlight with her silver light hair and wide, blue eyes that hold an innocence that no one else in the seam has left in them._

 

_“She's right through there, your grace.” She says pointing toward the door. “She will be pleased to see your face.”_

 

_“I don't know about that young Primrose.” I say with a smirk._

 

_“Prim,” She corrects and before she can bow I beat her to it._

 

_She tilts her chin up, just like her sister and fixes her face into the best regal glare she can._

 

_“Am I doing it right?” She asks._

 

_“No, you have to look more like you stepped in something foul.”_

 

_“I'll practice.” She promises as I trudge up to the door and knock tentatively._

 

_“Who is there?” Katniss._

 

_I open the door._

 

_“Why are you here?”_

 

_“Hello to you too.” I say as she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me. It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the dark but then I see her glowering face looking up at me from a pallet on the floor near the hearth._

 

_Its mid august but she's under a blanket and curled as close to the flames as she can get._

 

_“Are you alright?” I ask, crossing the room and flopping down next to her on the thin little mattress._

 

_She has a shawl over her shoulders and she wraps it tighter around herself._

 

_“I'm fine.” She seethes but I can see the shine in her eyes, the sweat on her brow, the flush of her skin where her nightdress hangs open. I advert my eyes._

 

_“Your sister told me you have a fever.”_

 

_“My sister should learn to keep her trap shut.” She scoffs. “I'll be back at work tomorrow, I swear it.” She says quickly._

 

_Right, missing even a day of work for her is something to be concerned over. Seam girls are a dime a dozen and all of them are looking for the job Katniss has._

 

_“You will not be tossed out, I will see to it.” I see her shoulders sag with relief just instantly. “Stay here until you feel better.”_

 

_“I do not need your pity.” She says without any bite to her words._

 

_“It isn't pity, whatever ails you I don't care to have it myself.” I say, tugging on her braid, she swats my hand away._

 

_“I don't feel well, Peeta.” She says quietly, and I am frozen into place for her head has fallen to my shoulder. Carefully, so carefully, my hand reaches up and brushes the hair from her face. Her eyes slide shut._

 

_“Rest.” I say gently._

 

_She is quiet so long I fear she fell asleep against me and maybe she did. I don't dare move for fear my little sparrow might fly away._

 

_“Well, would you look at that.” A voice says softly. I turn my head to see Primrose staring at us from the doorway. A cup of water in her hand._

 

_“Here, give her this will you?” She hands me the tin cup and backs out of the room._

 

_I shake her gently._

 

_“You are an idiot for coming here Peeta.” She grumbles, eyes still wrenched shut._

 

_“I know, I'm a daft idiot.” I say flatly. “Drink this or your scary sister will flay me.” She flashes her teeth when she smiles._

 

_“She isn't the one to fear.”_

 

_“That fever has you talking crazy, little Sparrow.” I say._

 

_“What did you call me?”_

 

_“Drink your water.” I demand._

 

_She presses her lips against the rim of the cup and I tilt it gently. She sips the water until its completely gone. When I discard the cup she surprises me by burying her face against my neck. I've learned enough from the animals in the meadow to know I dare not move and scarcely breathe. I feel her warm breath against the skin of my neck._

 

_“I've missed you.” She whispers. Or at least I think she did. It might be just how it feels. A lovely mirage._

 

 

_“You've been gone from work for two days.” I say trying to hide the laughter in my voice._

 

_“Not you.” She whispers._

 

_“Who then?”_

 

_“My father.”_

 

_“Katniss-”_

 

_“He's here,” She whispers. “With me.”_

 

_“I think that is the fever talking.” I whisper into her hair._

 

_“No,” Her skin is slick against mine. “He's here.”_

 

_“Why don't you try to sleep.” I say, standing somewhat reluctantly. I tilt her so she is laying down._

 

_“Won't you stay here with me?”_

 

_I should leave._

 

_I should leave now._

 

_The word slips from my lips before I can stop it._

 

_“Always.”_

 

_I sit on the rough pallet as she settles down to sleep. Her fingers reach for mine and she latches her hand against mine like she is afraid I will disappear. Her eyes flutter open, then shut, like butterfly wings._

 

_“Always.” I whisper again._

 

 

 

 

 

Katniss paces the length of the beach like a cat in a cage. I watch from a distance as she stares off at the horizon, deep in thought.

 

Maybe I should comfort her.

 

Maybe I should finally do what she's been begging me to do from day one and leave her alone.

 

I do neither. I sit at the edge of the rock wall that separates Mags yard from the beach and wait for her.

 

Remembering a time when she let me kiss her.

 

The warmth of her lips against mine, the smile in her voice and the lump in my throat when she finally forced us apart.

 

She turns back finally as the sun is just beginning to rise.

 

She seems startled at the sight of me. I sigh and offer her a small wave.

 

“What are you doing up?” She snarls. I shrug my shoulders at her anger. She is always grumpy in the morning.

 

“I thought you might like some tea, I didn't want to disturb you.” I motion to the mug of tea that has long gone cold in my hand.

 

“What do you think Plutarch wants with me?” Her voice trembles.

 

“Maybe he wants you to join court? I should have warned him though, your curtsy is dreadful.”

 

“Don't laugh at me.” She snaps.

 

“I'm not laughing at you.” I say.

 

“You are!” Her voice is barely a whisper but I can hear the edge that has curled in there. “You forget I know you Peeta Mellark, better than anyone else and I know when you're having a laugh at me.”

me.”

“You knew me two years ago, not anymore.” My words come out harsher than I intended them partially because I can still feel the sting of those finally moments deep in my chest. A mixture of wounded pride and a broken heart.

 

“The same could be said for you.” She growls back at me, giving me that glare that used to make me smile.

 

I hand her the mug of tea and turn on my heel. I have so much guilt over how it ended, sometimes I forget, she isn't completely blameless either.

 

“Peeta!”

 

I turn back to her.

 

“Thank you.” She barely tastes the words before spitting them out. “For the tea.”

 

I bow low.

 

“Always a pleasure, your grace.” I mimic the tone she always used on me, when she wanted to remind me of how different we really were. I see a flash of hurt across her face and I instantly regret this whole exchange. I came out to offer her an ear, not belittle her or make her feel guilty. We are passed this. Or at least I thought I was, I guess the cut runs so deep sometimes I forget that it is still open and bleeding, festering beneath the skin.

 

“I'm sorry,” I say but there is no taking the words back, she gives me a curt nod before storming off.

 

I can only sigh as I watch her stalk off down the beach.

 

“You really have a way with the ladies, mate.” Finnick drawls behind me.

 

“Astute observation Finnick.” I grumble. He barks out a laugh.

 

“She's prickly as a pear, that one.”

 

“Not always,” I say softly.

 

A thousand memories dance just behind my eyelids. The way she crinkles her nose when she laughs, the way her hips sway when she dances, the hot fan of her breath against my neck. The feeling of her skin against mine, warm and soft.

 

There is nothing as painful as a future you will never have.

 

Some one told me that once.

 

And surely she is the future I can never have. The thought throbs painfully with my heart.

 

Katniss is a black dot on the horizon, sitting on the sand with her head dropped in her hands.

 

“Better go over there and apologize before she decides to be done with you altogether and guts you.” Finnick whispers in my ear. “Something about a woman scorned.”

 

“Thank you Finnick.” My voice is hard as steel. Finnick laughs again and turns to walk up the beach.

 

“Wanker,” I whisper under my breath.

 

But I do as he says, I put one foot in front of the other and march towards Katniss.

 

She doesn't look at me as I approach, she keeps her eyes locked on the water whipping in the wind until its white and frothy.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I'm sorry.” I say gently. “May I sit?”

 

“No.” She grumbles into her knee.

 

“Fair enough, I'll stand.”

 

“I'd prefer it if you didn't.” She snaps.

 

“Katniss, please?” My tone is taken on a begging tone and this pricks her ears. Her eyes peek up at me and then flit away.

 

“Fine, but quit begging, its unbecoming.”

 

I fall more than sit in the sand next to her.

 

“How long?” She says like its been on her mind for a while.

 

“What?”

 

“How long did you wait for me?” Her voice is shaking, unsure. Her eyes are molten and fierce and scared. Whatever I did to warrant this look, let it kill me. I never want to see it again. “When you were leaving? How long did you wait for me.”

 

I smile but there is no humor in it.

 

I remember every muted moment of that day.

 

I waited so long my hands were numb in the cold, I waited while the night turned to day and the rain turned to sleet and finally snow. I don't tell her any of this though. I run my hands through my hair and scrub them down my face.

 

“Long enough to get the hint.”

 

Her chin trembles just slightly. My fingers beg to reach out and touch it. I shove my hands into my pockets and lean back to look at the marbled gray sky.

 

Is it always gray here in four?

 

“I had to stay.” Her voice is a broken whisper and when I finally gather the courage to look at her, her chest is heaving with effort.

 

“I know.” I say softly. “Still, it was a good dream wasn't it?” I bump her shoulder with mine. At this I get the barest smile.

 

“It was,” She says and for a moment I think she might kiss me, or I might kiss her. But then the moment passes and she shakes her head and I laugh breathlessly, just to do something so I don't reach out to touch her collarbone, thin and lovely as a flower petal.

 

“Maybe in a different life.” Her voice is so small I barely catch it.

 

“Indeed.” I whisper back.

 

We are content in our quiet for so long I start to think we have lost all ability to speak.

 

“What do you think Plutarch wants with me?”

 

“I honestly couldn't tell you.” I say and I feel a twist in my gut. “I can tell you this, he isn't one to be trusted.”

 

“I think that goes without saying.” Katniss grumbles.

 

“Whatever he does want, I'll be there Katniss and I won't abandon you.”

 

“Why not?” She laughs bitterly. Stands and brushes herself off. She is shielding me from the sun when she says it, so she has no features, just a darkness, a shadow. “I abandoned you.”

 

She doesn't look behind her when she walks off.

 

 

 

XX.XX

 

 

The gulls dip and sail in the air. I watch them distantly, like they are on another planet from me entirely. This life is happening to someone else. Not me.

 

Katniss is behind me, for once I can hear her footsteps heavy in the sand.

 

“Katniss.” I whisper.

 

“Come inside.”

 

I could say no.

 

I could say a lot of things.

 

I just stand.

 

XX.XX

 

 

I listen as she relays everything Plutarch said to her to the rest of the group that listens with rapt attention. I stay quiet, leaned against a wall trying to decipher exactly what Plutarch wants from her.

 

Everyone offers their opinion on the subject.

 

Johanna grits out that he clearly is trying to capture Katniss, she'll walk right into a trap and Gale agrees with her.

 

Rue is worried that they won't arrest the Mockingjay, they'll execute her on the spot.

 

Finnick thinks she shouldn't go alone.

 

I clear my throat.

 

“What is it Peeta?” Her tone comes out harsh but its a ploy, she isn't mean without reason, its clear in her eyes that she is terrified. I wonder if I am the only one that can see it. “What do you say?”

 

“I know Plutarch, believe me he isn't above killing but-” My voice dies out.

 

“But what Peeta?” Johanna grumbles, exasperated with me.

 

“But he must get something out of this, I think we should go, listen to what he has to say. If he wanted to just kill us then he would have done it at the pub. Whatever he needs perhaps we could use it to our advantage.”

 

“And what if it is a trap? Katniss walks in to be killed?” Johanna snaps back at me. I can feel every eye on me. My eyes however, are locked on Katniss.

 

“Well they aren't the only ones who can set a trap now are they?” I say with the slightest smile at Katniss.

 

I see something flash in her eyes.

 

Determination.

 

XX.XX

 

I take my plate out to the porch and watch the flicker of the candlelight from inside the hut. Finnick has pulled out a fiddle and a merry tune plays from behind the door. I shove half of my roll in my mouth and drown it with watered down ale.

 

It isn't like the food in court, its tough and hard to swallow but I've never minded that before.

 

 

The door cracks open and light spills over my boots. I know its her without looking up. She just has an air about her.

 

“You've been on your own all day.” She gripes at me.

 

“I thought you wanted it that way.”

 

She lets out a huff of breath.

 

“You're insufferable.”

 

I let the insult stew around the both of us. I take a long drink from my mug. I peek up at her, her braid hangs over her shoulder as she stares down at me, eyebrows raised.

 

“Whatever will you do about it?” I snort. “Perhaps you could drag me in by my ear?” The ale must be making my tongue a little more free.

 

“You still aren't very funny.” She says sourly, but she sits next to me and I know she isn't that upset with me. She rips the mug from my hand and takes a long sip, handing it back to me.

 

“Says you.” I snort back at her as she swallows.

 

“How's your shoulder?” She blurts suddenly, reaching out her fingers to graze the thin material of my shirt.

 

“It's healing.” I whisper, subtly moving my shoulder so she can't touch me. Truth is, whatever salve Mags used worked wonders, something in it has a numbing property and I've barely even thought about the wound.

 

“How's your ribs?” I ask.

 

“Healing.” She snaps back at me. I control my own impulse to touch her.

 

We cannot be this way with each other anymore.

 

“Katniss, I am truly sorry for what I said this morning, I have a tendency to let my wounded pride speak for me and I shouldn't.”

 

“Its fine Peeta, I know I am not the easiest person to live with.”

 

“Says who?”

 

She gives me a sideways glance.

 

“Everyone.”

 

“Bullocks, all of it.”

 

“Are you drunk?” She states.

 

“Not nearly.” I wink in her direction and take another long swig from my cup. She grabs it from me and takes a hearty drink of her own.

 

“Remember that day when you got drunk in the meadow and I had to keep you hidden from your mother all day?” She says and there is a pleasant glow to her cheeks, even in the low light. She looks like she did when she was in the woods, happy, free. My sparrow, if only this once more.

 

“Yes, if I remember correctly you were quite mean to me for a week after that.”

 

“Sae wanted to skin you alive.” She says with a laugh. It dies out quickly though and her lips turn down just slightly, her eyes going somewhere far away from me.

 

Come back.

 

“What are you thinking about?” I say, setting the cup between us.

 

“Posies,” She says and her voice sounds breathtakingly desperate. I'd do anything to take that pain away from her.

 

“Katniss-”

 

She's kissing me, lips warm and soft and pliable.

 

My food is forgotten, as is this night and the blanket of stars above us.

 

I have forgotten everything in favor of her.

 

I shift us so we are laying down, my arms holding me away from her, so I don't accidentally graze her bruised ribs.

 

It's like time has stopped.

 

I can feel her hands in my hair, pulling me closer.

 

Still I fear I am not close enough.

 

We part, gasping for air.

 

Though I fear it isn't air I need.

 

It's her. It has always been her.

 

We are lost in each other, eyes drinking in the other.

 

Her eyes are deep and fathomless and she raises a hand to her swollen lips. In what? Wonder? Horror? What on earth could she possibly be thinking?

 

“I'm sorry.” She whispers.

 

She is gone before I can say anything.

 

I should chase after her.

 

My legs refuse to move.

 

XX.XX

 

 

_“You know, for someone with such short legs, you sure can run!”_

 

_She slows her steps and whirls on me suddenly. Hands on her hips._

 

_“I mean, its good that you're feeling better.” I say with a wink. She rolls her eyes but walks a little slower._

 

_Its the Summer festival today and in the distance I can hear children giggling in the distance, I can hear the singers and the peddlers._

 

_I can hear Katniss and the ragged dance of her breath in her chest as we hike up toward the fence and beyond._

 

_“I have something to show you.” We've reached the fence and she shimmies her way underneath, holding the fence up as I slip under, not nearly as gracefully as she's just done._

 

_“What?” I ask._

 

_Already she looks like a weight has been lifted from her._

 

_“It's a secret.” She says, grabbing my hand and dragging me forward._

 

_She doesn't even frown when I trudge through the dead leaves._

 

_We reach an old hollowed out log. She lifts something out, wrapped in well worn deerskin._

 

_She lets the skin fall away._

 

_“Katniss,” I whisper. “What is that?”_

 

_“My fathers bow.” She breathes, running her fingers reverently across the wood. Its like the world has melted from her._

 

_“Katniss,” I feel the fear lodged in my throat, it makes it hard to breathe. “Katniss, if anyone finds it you'll hang.”_

 

_“Yes, I'm aware.” She snaps._

 

_“Katniss-”_

 

_“Don't!” She shouts and it startles a flock of birds from its perch, they flutter up into the sky. “I know I could die, but if I don't hunt my sister and mother will die as well, its a risk I must be willing to take!” I can see the disappointment in her eyes, I haven't reacted the way she wanted me to but I can't help it. If someone found it or informed on her my father would have no choice, child or not she would be hung in the town square for all to see. Just as her father was before her._

 

_“And what happens to Prim if you are hung? A lot of good you'll do to her dead.”_

 

_This isn't going how either one of us wanted._

 

_“I knew I never should of showed you, you probably can't wait to get back to your mother and tattle.” She snarls._

 

_“Do you really believe that?” I snort. “Do you really think so little of me? Really Katniss, I thought we were friends.”_

 

_I see her swallow hard._

 

_“Is that what we are? Friends?” She asks me._

 

_We let the question hang in the air between us._

 

_“Of course Katniss.”_

 

_“No, we aren't.” She covers the bow and puts it back in the log. “Friends have something in common Peeta, and what, pray tell do we have in common!”_

 

_My voice is quiet._

 

_“We're both lonely.” I whisper._

 

_She looks like I slapped her._

 

_“I-I'm not lonely.”_

 

_I don't like the answer any more than she does._

 

_XX.XX_

 

“Katniss!” I holler, trying to decipher where exactly she would have run off to.

 

The sand makes it impossible to track her.

 

“Katniss!”

 

Its impossibly dark out here and I fear I might get lost in the dunes of sand. She'll be mad if she has to come and find me.

 

“Come on you stubborn mule!”

 

“Who are you calling a bloody mule?”

 

I nearly trip over her.

 

“Katniss.” It's a breath. A whisper.

 

“What have I done?” She whispers. It sends a slicing pain straight to my heart.

 

She stands and we just stare at each other. An old passed time of ours by now, but it feels different. I can feel the sparks between us. Like if we touched we'd be scorched to death by our own flames.

 

Would we rise again?

 

Different and better than we were in this life?

 

“I'm sorry.” I say.

 

“I kissed you, so I guess I should be sorry.” She says with a shrug. I think she's been crying.

 

“Are you?” I ask.

 

“Am I sorry?” She asks and I nod, licking my lips as if I anticipate her like a meal.

 

“No,” She breathes and it is all I need.

 

I have her trapped against me, my fingers tangled in her braid while my other arm wraps around her waist and for all these years I marvel at the sameness of it.

 

She still smells like the woods.

 

It's like coming home.

 

XX.XX

 

_She's like a cat, running through the bushes, slipping beneath bracken and thickets with thorns and I am no where near lithe enough to keep up with her, I trip over every root and branch in a ten mile radius. But she has to pause for breath at the fence, I catch up to her there as she doubles over, a stitch in her side._

 

_“Katniss.”_

 

_“Shut up!” she heaves, her fingers tangling in the weeds and dirt._

 

_“Katniss, look at me.” I am out of breath too but I can't stop looking at her, braid unraveled, sweat slicking her skin, shirt clinging to her back. She straightens her spine but her knees remain locked in the dirt, she looks up at me as I step toward her._

 

_So gingerly, as if she is made of glass, my finger reaches out and touches the skin stretched over her cheekbone._

 

_She's just as soft as I imagined she would be._

 

_“Katniss, don't die.” I beg._

 

_“I won't,” She says with a small smile. My finger retracts but I can't help it, I cup her face with both hands and tilt her chin up._

 

_I wonder what she would taste like, if I kissed her?_

 

_I decide on blackberries and sweet clean river water._

 

_Freedom._

 

_And then her lips are on mine and she is even sweeter than I could of imagined. She is better than cream and berries and warm tea on a cold day. My hands go to her hips instinctively and I hear the softest of gasps against my lips._

 

_I want to die hearing that noise._

 

_We break apart._

 

_“Katniss, I-”_

 

_Her hands touch her lips._

 

_“Katniss.”_

 

_“Oh, Peeta.” Her voice is soft, insistent, chastising. “What have I done?” Her eyes meet mine and I implore her to stay here, we'd figure it out. Together._

 

_I see the subtle shift of her feet in the grass and I know objectively that she'll will run from me before she does._

 

_“K-” I start to say her name, again, as if it is the only word I know._

 

_But she is already gone._

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I want him.
> 
>  
> 
> And I want this little piece of him to squirrel away into my memories before he is torn from me. If I had known, how bad it would really be, maybe I would have run for the hills then, but I cannot go back. I cannot give back what he has lost to me.

_I can feel him watching me._

 

_His eyes follow me through the dining room as I serve wine to his mother. I tell myself not to look up, not to show any familiarity with Peeta but it is hard when he refuses to ignore me._

 

_“That's enough, girl.” His mother dismisses me._

 

_I curtsy and despite myself my eyes flit over to Peeta._

 

_He blows his breath on a spoon and tries to stick it on the end of his nose but it clatters to the floor. He looks at it, sitting on his mothers expensive floor, then back up at me._

_\_

_A beat of silence._

 

_I can't suppress my smile, which makes Peeta smile._

 

_My eyes slide over to the table where his mother looks in between Peeta and I. Her glare is like ice water down my back._

 

_It takes everything in me not to drop the pitcher of wine as I scurry to the kitchen, deftly avoiding the other serving girls. I slump against a chair and try to heave in any air. This isn't good at all. I can still feel her eyes cutting through me. It might be the first time she has ever even acknowledged me but I feel like she knows that I kissed her son._

 

_` Me._

 

_Nobody._

 

_`A moment later Leevy is at my side._

 

_“Did you just see that?” She says from behind her hand._

 

_“What?” I snarl, annoyed that she is standing so close to me._

 

_“The bloody old witch up and cuffed him!” Her voice is laced with excitement, or fear, I can't really tell but as I peek my head around the corner I see the chair that Peeta just occupied is empty, tipped to the ground. The silver spoon still sitting on the carpet._

 

_Peeta is nowhere to be found._

 

_His brothers, home from court with there wives all sit and eat quietly, too afraid to look up from their plates._

 

_“Where did she take him Leevy?” I ask, fear and hurt lodging in my throat._

 

_I wait until I am sure she is asleep._

 

_I slip into his room._

 

_He is looking out his window, his back to me, but our eyes meet in the reflection and he smiles at me sadly._

 

_“Your shift was over hours ago.” He says, rolling his lips together as his eyes flit away from mine._

 

_“I wanted to see if you were okay.” I say, something strange humming in my blood A feeling Peeta just brings out in me, its new and odd but inherently tied to the blonde boy in front of me._

 

_He turns and regards me, reaching for a cup at his bedside and taking a long pull._

 

_“She caught me by surprise.” He says suddenly. His eyes flash and dance in the flicker of the fire._

 

_“Does she catch you by surprise often?” I ask, the question sticking to the back of my throat. Now, in the light I can see the red skin at his temple. The purple beginning to bloom there. It isn't a secret that Peeta's mother is cruel. Everyone across the district knows it, but this is the first time I have seen her so directly lay hands on Peeta. His eyes slip upward, resting somewhere on my face._

 

_“You probably shouldn't be here.” His voice is flat._

 

_He is right, I shouldn't be here. I shiver when I think about what she would do if she found me here when she cuffed him for making me smile. But I am tired of cruelty and I am tired of denying myself the simple pleasure of Peeta Mellark._

 

_For once I am tired of being where I am suppose to be. Of doing the things that I should._

 

_I don't want to care about Peeta Mellark but I do, there is nothing about that now._

 

_“Do you want me to leave?” I ask him plainly. My eyes meeting his in defiance. He searches my eyes and then swallows. The silence feels like smoke around us, cloying and acrid._

 

_“No.” He chokes out finally._

 

_“Lie down.” I instruct, unpinning my cloak and shedding it. It looks so ragged compared to his fine chair that I sling it across._

 

_I cross the room in three quick strides and set him on the bed._

 

_He feels listless beneath my touch as I pull his jacket off, He is in a dark tunic and pants and I ignore the tight pinch in my stomach at the sight of his broad chest. I look away quickly, heat pooling in my cheeks._

 

_He does as he is told, leaning against his headboard and watching me warily as I slip out of my shoes and sit gingerly at the edge of the bed._

 

_“I'm so tired, Katniss.” He says plainly._

 

_I inch toward him, slowly, like a stray dog. He just looks at me as I crawl across the bed and settle myself next to him._

 

_My hand reaches slowly for his curls and his eyes flutter shut the moment I scrape my nails across his scalp, humming with approval._

 

_“Then sleep, Peeta.”_

 

_He does._

 

_And I watch the even rise and fall of his chest until my own eyes droop and I succumb to the tiredness in my bones, the softness of his feather bed, the warmth only Peeta can offer me._

 

_Sometime in the night I wake, something warm and hard beneath my cheek. It takes me too long to formulate that I am sleeping with my cheek pressed against him and the warm, solid thing is in fact Peeta. His fingers are threaded through my hair as he hums gently._

 

_“How long have you been awake?” I gasp, jerking upward. He smiles crookedly as if he knew exactly what I was going to do._

 

_“A little while.”_

 

_“Why didn't you wake me?”_

 

_“You weren't scowling.”_

 

_“Its after dark!” I screech._

 

_“You're scowling now.”_

 

_“Piss off.” I say without any real venom as he swallows his smile._

 

_“I should have woken you, I'm sorry. I just-” He shakes his head. “I just thought you could use the rest.”_

 

_I feel my annoyance melt into something else._

 

_“Peeta-” He has to know that we cannot keep this up. His mother will find out one way or another. Our friendship must end tonight, right now. I never should have come here to begin with._

 

_“I know what you are going to say.” His voice is low and gravelly with sleep._

 

_“You know its true!” I exclaim, exasperated.”Bloody hell Peeta!”_

 

_I stand, grabbing my shoes and stomping toward the door. We've been playing with fire since that first kiss. His fingers lingering on my back as he passed me in the kitchen. Stolen kisses in the woods, away from prying eyes. Sly winks and smiles thrown across the room when he thought his mother wasn't looking._

 

_She is looking now._

 

_And a simple smile threw her into a fit. What would she do if she knew Peeta pressed me against an oak just this morning and ran his tongue over the swell of my bottom lip, just to listen to the sharp exhale of my breath? What would she do if she knew I secretly lived for the small thrill it sent up my spine, that I felt the dread mixing with a different, new heat in her stomach?_

 

_It is too awful to consider._

 

_Peeta touches me and I am not sure when he crossed the room but his fingers brush her neck and I practically jumps out of her skin._

 

_He steps toward me and I inch back. He smiles as if that is an answer to a question he never asked. Its wry and sad and empty all at once even though that seems so impossible. He seems impossible. His thumb brushes my cheekbone._

 

_“Sparrow,” He says in a thick voice I can't recognize. His pupils are thick and fat as his hands drop to my jaw and cup my face. I am just a breath away from the door, I could turn and leave but he has me caught like a rabbit in a snare. My bones are like lead under the velvet touch of his fingertips._

 

_His chest heaves as his eyes flit across my face, waiting, always waiting for me to make the first move. He is so close I can feel the heat of his breath against my skin._

 

_“I should leave.” I say weakly._

 

_“Okay.” He says simply but neither of us move. Eyes locked on each other._

 

_“Sparrow?”_

 

_“I should leave.” I repeat dumbly. His head drops down and I can taste the wine on his breath, the heat of him. I hate him. At least I think I hate him. Or maybe its something more than hate, I can't be sure with him looking at me from under his impossibly long eyelashes._

 

_“Don't let her take you from me.” He whispers against my lips. My eyes dart down to his lips and then back up to his eyes. I feel the rush of heat through me as his hand pulls me to him roughly, are lips colliding as Peeta stumbles until my back hits the door, one hand cradling my jaw, the other protecting my head from the door, fingers threading through my hair._

 

 

_Time stops suddenly._

 

_Or it goes too fast._

 

_Its impossible to tell._

 

_But we finally are forced apart with heaving lungs and swollen, bruised lips._

 

_“Katniss,” Peeta says gently._

 

_When I look up at his eyes, dark and hooded and wide I know I don't have the strength to pry myself away from him._

 

_His mother will do her worst._

 

_She could have me whipped, my tongue cut out or worse._

 

_I know she will do it, if we are ever caught together._

 

_Looking into his eyes, not just blue but flecked with gold and green, I just know that it won't be enough to keep me away from him. Now that I know what it is like to be truly kissed by Peeta Mellark I will never forget it. I need it like air to breathe and I will never be strong enough to deny it to myself._

 

_“Everything will be alright.” He believes it. He really believes it. So it is easy to smile at him, to think I believe it too. But the fear is there, pooled under all the other feelings he dredges up inside of me. Overpowered and pushed to the back of my mind._

 

_He pulls me toward the bed and I let him. He sets me down gently on the edge and cups my face in his hands, giving me the smallest and sweetest of smiles. His nose brushes mine._

 

_“I should be getting home.”_

 

_“Just stay a while longer.”_

 

_“Why?” The word hangs between us._

 

_“Because I am not ready for you to not be here.”_

 

 

 

Peeta wakes me just as dawn is fading from muted blue to the buttery sunlight of another day. I grumble and pull my blankets up over my shoulder.

 

“Come on then, sweetheart.” He whispers, warm breath on the shell of my ear. “You are wasting the day.”

 

I say something unkind and pull the scratchy blanket over my head.

 

“I made bread.” He whispers. He yanks the blanket off me and I resign myself to the chill on my skin as I lean back and scowl at him.

 

He looks almost etheral in the light, rich and light as butter. Something not afforded by someone like me.

 

He discards the blanket and crawls over me and all I can do is blink blearily at him. I think he is going to kiss me, right here next to a snoring Finnick but he stops only a breath away from me and smiles. “I made you some tea also.” I can almost taste his breath. I can feel the warmth, so much like candlelight, on his skin.

 

“Come on then.”

 

“Peeta?” My voice is still hoarse from sleep. He smiles sharp and bright and I control a desperate impulse to lean forward and press my lips to his.

 

“What?” He asks playfully, playing with the edge of my shirt.

 

“Piss off.” I roll over as he laughs.

 

But then he is next to me, wrapping his arms around me, tucking me against him and I fit into him like I have always belonged there and I can't- I can't breath.

 

“Fine.” I grumble as I stumble upward and glare at him. “What do you want?”

 

He grins wide.

 

“We need breakfast first, don't we?” He says with a wink. He sets a mug next to me of rich, dark tea.

 

He hands me a roll and the smell sends me back to our childhood. Two sunburned children traipsing through the bracken and thickets. I crack the crust and watch the steam escape. Suddenly I feel sick thinking about it.

 

“Get dressed!” He says as he breezes out of the hut, leaving me to choke down the roll and change my shirt. I catch my reflection in a mirror and stare at it for a long time. I cock my head to the side and look into my own eyes, trying to see what Peeta sees when he looks at me.

 

Its useless though, all I see is the patchwork skin, my hair dull and brittle from years of starvation and my sharp cheekbones. I waste a few more minutes splashing cold water on my face, re braiding my hair and downing my tea.

 

Peeta is leaned against the railing and smiles like he is seeing the sun for the first time when I step out of the door.

 

“What?” I snarl, draping my braid over my shoulder.

 

He turns on his heel.

 

“Took you long enough.” He hops the rail and stands in the sand waiting for me.

 

“Like you have anything better to do?” I snort as I follow him down a path, staring at the back of his head.

 

He leads me up to the road and helps me up the stone steps to the road that are slick with the sand that has been whipped around by the wind.

 

 

He smiles but in the end doesn't say anything, just walks with his arm brushing mine.

 

Just before we reach the town Peeta veers off the path toward a cropping of trees, his hand enveloping mine as we cross the sweet grass and step into the shadows. He is warm as ever and I feel that familiar lump growing in my throat as we walk in silence.

 

I shiver but not out of cold.

 

Its a terrible thing to be in a constant state of remembering.

 

Peeta must feel me looking at him because he turns suddenly, taking another step and dragging me closer to him. In the safety of the darkness I let him cup my jaw in his hand and tilt my face upward.

 

 _Don't kiss him_. I plead with myself. Because nothing has changed. Not really. I am the Mockingjay and Peeta is still one of the most eligible nobles in all the districts and we could never be together.

 

I fear that I look how I feel, wild eyed and desperate. My heart fluttering against my ribcage like a trapped bird. I feel my back hit the rough bark of a tree.

 

I search Peeta for signs of life. His eyes black pools that are unreadable to me.

 

 _Don't kiss him_. I demand.

 

I do it anyway. Our lips collide and its like no time has passed at all, he still knows exactly what will make me gasp into his mouth. His hands tangle in my hair, mine end up wrapped around his shoulders and I feel something delicately excruciating blooming in the pit of my stomach and spreading through my limbs.

 

Something only Peeta does to me.

 

We break apart. We are both flushed and heaving, looking at each other willing the other to finally say it.

 

“Nothing has changed Peeta.” In the end it is always me.

 

He runs a hand through his hair and takes a shaky breath, looking toward the break in the trees.

 

“Everything has changed.” He whispers.

 

I laugh and the noise is bitter in my mouth.

 

“So you aren't engaged to another woman?” I snarl. “I am not destined to hang? Peeta we will only break our own hearts!” Its honest, too honest and I know he can see it in my eyes, all of the fear, for myself, for Prim, for him.

 

“I'm not going back to court, I am staying with you.”

 

I snort.

 

“What so we can both hang?” I am thinking of another day and I know he is too because our eyes meet and I see everything I feel reflected back at me. The pain, the loss, the hurt.

 

“You will not hang.” His fingers glide along my jaw.

 

I snort again.

 

His forehead tilts down to mine.

 

“I won't let you.” I know he means it. He would take all of the punishment in the world for me and it hits me like an arrow to the chest, because he has already taken so much for me already and there is no way I can ever pay it back.

 

“Peeta, I am going to die, probably soon- I can't-” My words are like a sob, quick and sharp and breathless. “There is nothing you can do to stop it.”

 

“Then I will die too.” He says softly, pressing my hand against his chest, over his racing heart. Then he is kneeling at my feet like I am a queen, like he is the peasant.

 

I know objectively I am crying because this also reminds me of a different day. And had I known what would have happened I would have told him then.

 

“Peeta, get up.” My voice is commanding and hard. His face falls and his fingers reach out and run down the leg of my pants. I feel the pulse of something akin to fire racing along my skin.

 

He doesn't dare look up at me.

 

“Katniss, you have no control over what happens to me. I could also be hung, today, tomorrow- the king could have me killed for anything, same as you- I- we-” He takes in a deep breath. “A life without you isn't much of anything for me. I just want whatever part of you that you are willing to give me for however long we have.”

 

I feel myself melting. He is right. The king could have him killed just for speaking to me wrong. We have been seen together now. It doesn't matter that if I stay away or not. If we are both to die there is nothing I can do to save him.

 

And I am tired of denying myself the one thing I want.

 

“If you'll allow it.” He says with a hard swallow. He looks small and lost.

 

“I'll allow it.” I say, because I am just as tired of pretending as he is.

 

He must sense the change in me because a shadow of a smile ghosts across his face and he stands, dragging me to the break in the trees.

 

Off in the distant I can hear the roar of the ocean mirroring the pounding of my heart as he drags me into a meadow made of tufts of sea grass and salt and sand.

 

It reminds me of the meadow back home. The one we spent so many hours in, hidden from view of his mother and a disapproving district.

 

He has set us up a lunch of cheese and grapes, crackers and salted pork. He must have been at the shops as soon as they opened to do this. I turn to gape at him as he smiles crookedly. My hands ball on my hips and I glare at the back of his head.

 

“This is a bit forward of you don't you think?” I snarl but it lacks my usual heat.

 

“What? I seem to remember you love grapes.” He says innocently, sitting on the edge of the blanket and patting the space next to him.

 

I feel the steady heat. The shyness tugging my lips down. I am painfully aware of the tight pull of my scars on my face and shoulder, reminding me of a different set of scars. Thin and white and crisscrossed on anothers back and I suddenly can't breathe.

 

“Katniss,” He says softly. “It is only lunch.” He offers me a reassuring smile and I let my feet bring me closer.

 

I sit next to him and end up watching his lips as he talks to be about nothing, and we stay there until the evening. We hide away from the rest of the world and for once I don't think about the consequences or what might come.

 

We both end up laying up looking at the dying light of the day. I am laughing at a story Peeta is telling when he looks at me suddenly.

 

There is something soft and strange in his eyes.

 

“Hello.” He says, reaching his fingers out and brushing my hair away from my face.

 

“Hello.” I say back. The soft fluttering is back. His hand tucks my hair back but stays, thumb brushing my skin. I can't breath. I can't rip my eyes away from his face. I can't do much of anything but breath and blink.

 

Then his lips are on mine and I forget even that.

 

 

 

 

XX.XX

 

We walk hand in hand until the hut comes into view then I pry my hand from his and stare straight ahead, my face a cool mask. I can feel Peeta's grin without having to look at him. He ambles along, in no hurry to return and I find that I slow to walk at his side.

 

“Oi, where have you two been?” Finnick says from a low hanging branch. “Almost thought about looking for you.”

 

“Piss off.” I snap.

 

“No need to get testy, fair lady.” He says cheekily. “We've all been in need of a nice walk in the woods to clear our thoughts.” His voice drips with sarcasm. “Although the rest of us generally come back from our walks in a bit of a better mood than when we left.”

 

My hands fly to my hips and I feel my eyebrows knit together.

 

“I would imagine you come back from your walks in a better mood, Finnick.” Peeta says as he grabs my elbow and leads me along. “Considering I've never seen you go walking with someone else.”

 

Finnick leaps down into the grass, stumbling as his boots land into the mud behind us.

 

“I quite like him, Katniss.” He calls after us.

 

We are at the edge of the clearing near the road next to the hut.

 

“Katniss?” Peeta pulls me to a stop, grabbing my elbow gently as I turn to look at him.

 

“What is it?” I ask.

 

He is quiet for a long time but his lips part like he might say something to me. I feel something skitter down my spine, something almost painful. He runs his fingers through his curls as he rips his eyes away from mine and scans the horizon, the blue where sky meets sea.

 

“What is it?” I repeat again, feeling my insides turn to ice when he looks at me.

 

“Nothing, I guess, just-”

 

His mouth flutters like he needs to say more but no words come and then suddenly he is leaned over, hot breath fanning the thick pink skin on my cheek as he presses a kiss there. A warmth immediately floods my veins and I feel dizzy with it.

 

His hand comes up and cups my jaw.

 

“I'm just not ready for it to be over I guess.”

 

When his fingers come up to play with my braid I know the feeling distinctly. I would like nothing more than to hide in his arms for a few more hours but if we will ever face Plutarch then we need a few hours sleep.

 

Its two days from our meeting and it looms over us like the hangman’s noose.

 

XX.XX

 

  
  


“Hello, Friend.” Finnick says as he drops down next to me in the sand.

 

“Hello, Finn.” I say, pushing my porridge around my bowl with my spoon. I've been sitting here the last hour watching Peeta and Rue play cards across the room. The little girl smiles, her riotous curls bouncing every time Peeta makes her laugh.

 

“For someone who spent the entire morning holed away with her boyfriend you sure do look dour. Please share what is on your mind?”

 

“He isn't my boy-” But the argument dies in my mouth when he raises his eyebrows in my direction. I've never been able to lie to Finnick. “I've just- He-”

 

I don't know where to start.

 

There is just so much that can go wrong. I nearly lost Peeta twice over and then I did lose him. I have him back now, but at what cost to me? At what cost to him? What price am I willing to pay to keep him?

 

My life?

 

His life?

 

Finnicks? Rue's? What point do I stop and say it is impossible? When do I stop allowing his silver tongue to stop me from doing what needs to be done?

 

“Finnick he is a Noble.” I say harshly. “I am a peasant.”

 

“Astute observation.” Finnick whispers dryly.

 

“If he is found with us, it isn't just me that they will hang.”

 

Finnick raises his eyebrows but doesn't say anything to me. He motions for me to continue when I sigh.

 

“You'll all die for that and for what?”

 

“Katniss-” He says after a long, pregnant pause. “We all could be hung for a lot of things. Its a little silly to think that you have any say in how we die? None of us know what is coming Mockingjay, well,except my grandmother-” He winks. “But I do know this, Keeping yourself from him is just making what time you do have unhappy and I don't like it when you are unhappy- you- you just frown so much and there really is enough ugliness in the world don't you think?” I toss my bowl in his direction without thinking and the porridge globs down his shirt.

 

“See, that was just uncalled for.” He grumbles.

 

“Oh, shut up.” I sigh.

 

He flashes his teeth at me.

 

“Katniss, you can't save any of us.” His voice is soft and quiet, the kind you use on the dying, the broken, the hopeless. “We'll follow you to the ends of the earth anyway. Go, be happy while you can and we'll try to do the same.”

 

I nod because there is a lump that has swollen up in my throat and it is a struggle just to breathe.

 

He must leave because soon I am alone. I turn to look back at the space Peeta had occupied but he is gone.

 

Its sudden.

 

The breath I heave in.

 

And I am not sure if my skin is enough to contain me. I feel too full, or maybe like I am too empty. I am jittery and afraid and paper thin.

 

Then I am standing on the porch, staring out at the darkness, trembling and unsure, wondering where he could have run off to.

 

I step off of the porch and into the darkness without any thought. I need him like I need air, like I need sunshine.

 

“Peeta!” I call to him as I walk toward the beach, the hut and its light growing fainter with each step. In the distance I can hear the crash of waves. The sand slips from beneath my boots, making it hard to walk.

 

I'm getting more annoyed the more I call for him. Peeta has always told me that my impatience will be my downfall.

 

Peeta!” I snarl more than shout and finally he answers in his calm way. His voice both insufferable and sweet. I find him sitting on a hill at the edge of the beach.

 

“What are you doing?” I snap, annoyed that he could probably hear me the whole time and waited until I was nearly upon him before answering me. He is smiling at me like he finds it terribly funny. I feel my lips tug downward and my eyebrow shoot up as my hands go to my hips.

 

“Oh tell me what I did to earn that look.” He grumbles. He is playing with a stick, jabbing it into the sand as he talks. “So I can never do it again, at the risk of death.”

 

All the anger rushes out of me when he looks up and smiles at me and I find myself staring stupidly at the dimple in his cheek that is as familiar to me as breathing.

 

“What are you doing out here?” I ask with a sigh, stepping forward to sit next to him.

 

“Enjoying the ocean before we leave tomorrow night. I've always loved district four.” He says, tossing his stick toward the beach.

 

“Oh.” I say stupidly.

 

“I would have invited you but you seemed deep in conversation with Finnick and I didn't want to interrupt.”

 

“It- I- It would have been fine really.” I stammer out, feeling like an idiot. How does he do that? Turn me into a blithering idiot with just a glance in my direction? “We were just discussing-” I cut my words off sharply. What do I tell Peeta? My mouth flops open and shut like a fish. “Posies.” I finally settle on with a wince.

 

He smiles crookedly and I know- I just know.

 

He knows.

 

Maybe he has known all along.

 

“Posies huh?” He is creeping up on me. I can feel his arm go behind me as he crawls toward me and instinctively I inch back. He freezes, not moving, though I can hear the heaving of his chest.

 

“Yeah, you know the flower.” I snap haughtily.

 

“I'm aware of what posies are sweetheart, if you recall.” His voice is teasing but not unkind.

 

“I recall.” I say, softer now and I blame it on the way I can feel the heat radiating off of his arm behind me and it makes to world swim and shimmer. How am I suppose to concentrate with him so close to me? His face is just inches from me.

 

“Peeta-”

 

“Katniss-”

 

“Peeta, I'm tired of this.” I feel him recoil, his face falling, just slightly. I see the hurt, the disappointment, the fear all written on his face and it makes my heart twist in my chest painfully. I did that, I put that there.

 

Shame isn't a strong enough word for what I feel.

 

“Peeta, I'm going to die.” I say quickly.

 

“Katniss, you are not a seer- you do not know the future.”

 

“You're right!” I snap in his face. “I can't know what is going to happen but I know that this story, my story, does not end well. I have done horrible things in the name of not wanting my sister to starve. I have stolen from men just like you, I have taken everything but their lives and I have now even crossed that line and- and- yet still the thing I regret most, is you-” I am heaving, I am scared, I feel so little sitting next to him.

 

He doesn't move but I feel the heat of his stare. I can feel his brokenness radiating into me.

 

“I regret not leaving with you that night. I should have stayed with you, just like I promised.”

 

“Katniss, what are you saying?” He is hurt and so full of sorrow and hopeful, always so hopeful he is alight with it.

 

“I am saying I am yours, in whatever way you will have me.”

 

“You can't mean that.” His voice is paper thin and shallow, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 

“I can and I do.” I say softly.

 

“What has changed?”

 

Nothing.

 

Everything.

 

I just know now that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if he is the death of me.I could be the death of him. So all we have is now. And I want him.

 

I press my lips to his and hope it is enough of an answer for him. I hope he can feel it humming in my blood because I am not brave enough to say it. It might ruin me. I might crumble at his feet and for all of his strength, all of his charm, he might not be able to put me back together again.

 

He tilts my face and deepens the kiss.

 

And as he lays us down, his weight pressing down on me, I know, just like before I will not be the one to stop.

 

He will have to be the strong one.

 

XX.XX

 

Peeta drags me into the house, which long went quiet. I stifle my giggle when he almost trips. He leads me to his pallet and we fall onto it, drunk on each other, dizzy and giddy. The entire world shut out, just for his moment. Slowly we fall quiet and his fingers rubs soft circles on my hip.

 

We lay there for a long time, just breathing as my eyelids grow so heavy they droop. Finally his arm wraps around me and pulls me closer to him.

 

“Is this real?” He mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

 

“Mhmmm.” I manage to whisper.

 

“Good, I'll see you in the morning then.” And the hope in his voice drags me under and I succumb to sleep.

 

 

XX.XX

 

_The morning of the party dawns bright and happy. The birds outside the window are twittering and fluttering in the leaves. Its a bright, spring day._

 

_I feel the cold, sick dread balling into a hard lump in my stomach._

 

_Today, Peeta Mellark will meet his future bride. I will serve her wine as they are promised to each other._

 

_I knew this is how this will end, with every kiss it has been a risk that it would be the last. I have been a fool to let it go on this long. Still I dress in my breeches and shirt and pull on my fathers old jacket and make my way to the meadow where he waits, outshining the sun, even in his simple white shirt and dark pants._

 

_He is watching the treeline, waiting for me. I shift my weight, the grass swaying around me._

 

_He suddenly spins, a sad smile playing on his lips._

 

_“Hello, little Sparrow.” He says softly._

 

_“She sprung this on you suddenly.” I say dryly. I am working on forgetting him already. Because my survival depends on it._

 

_Because I don't have a choice._

 

_His mother had announced it just yesterday. Every eligible girl in all of Panem will be in twelve to catch Peeta's eye and he will pick a bride and be done with that seam whore so help her! The walls shook with the proclamation. The whole household heard as I flushed berry red, I slipped out of the house then and didn't get to hear anymore._

 

_“Yes, leave it to my mother to plan the party of the century in two weeks and insult me at the same time.”_

 

_“Its okay Peeta, I know that- We knew that this had to end.” I try to smile but it must look wrong on my face._

 

_There is something warm building in my gut and my throat is tight and I don't know why because it is true, we always knew that we could never be together._

 

 

_“Sparrow-” Peeta says softly and I ball my fists at my side and grit my teeth._

 

_I must have lost a little more of my mind with every kiss._

 

_I was stupid to let it go on for so long._

 

_I fear this was what my mother feels when she stares out into the distance, looking for the silhouette of my father on the horizon. The realization he isn't coming home. The hollowness. The betrayal._

 

_“Katniss, I- I am not marrying one of those women.”_

 

_“Peeta, you must.”_

 

_“Why, because she says so!” I've never heard his voice so- so- angry. I stumble back, even though I know he would never hurt me. “What kind of a life is that Katniss?”_

 

_I can't answer. My voice won't come. His eyes are wild and desperate and I don't have anything good to tell him. My mouth flops open._

 

_“Living the life she wants for me with a woman I don't care for-” He snorts._

 

_“Perhaps with time-” I say with my arms dangling limp at my sides. I don't offer myself as a comfort though I want to pitch myself in the familiar cradle of his arms. The look he is giving me stills me._

 

_“Don't placate me, Katniss, I am not a child.” He growls. “I have had enough of people treating me like I can't decide anything for myself.”_

 

_“You always knew this was going to happen!” I shout in his face. “Why would you risk this! How could you!”_

 

_“Because I love you!” He shouts suddenly. “Because it has always been you, since we were twelve! Maybe even before!”_

 

_There it is. I feel like I have had too much wine, dizzy and warm._

 

_I go still and stare at him, like a doe that has caught a scent. I wait with the northern winds blowing against me. His chest heaves and his hands fist in his hair and he stumbles back against a tree._

 

_I press my lips together tightly._

 

_We just watch one another._

 

_I swallow, once, twice._

 

_“Why would you do something so stupid?” I say and I know it is the wrong thing to say. I am always saying the wrong thing. I worry I have offended him but when I look up he is smiling at me sadly._

 

_“I'm just stupid, I guess.” He says, creeping toward me._

 

_“Peeta, you were always destined for this.”_

 

_“Bullocks.” He says with a sly smile._

 

_I inch backward instinctively but he catches up with me eventually. His hand comes up and brushes my cheekbone and just like that I am jelly, powerless to him._

 

_He is the hunter now._

 

_But then I remember he isn't a hunter at all. He is a baker, a painter, he sees beauty where I see death and when he kisses me he tastes like sunshine._

 

_He is the only person that ever truly made me feel alive._

 

_Heaven help me, I am a fool._

 

_I lean into his touch and he wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me up and against him. I can smell the salt of his sweat and I can taste the berries from his breakfast and just before I go completely senseless he whispers my name against my lips and it is the last thing I am truly aware of besides the humming of my blood and the burning of his flesh against mine as hot open mouth kisses are trailed down my jaw and hands wander to my waist._

 

_We tangle together in a way I would imagine might be painful._

 

_I feel like this whole process should be more painful than it is. But it is so easy to let him press his lips against me and feel blessed for just a moment._

 

_And when he asks me if I want to stop I stare up into his indigo eyes and tell him to keep going, Even though I know that this will end in bloodshed, mine and his, and I am selfish enough to dig my fingers into his shoulders and bow my back against him._

 

_Because I want him._

 

_And I want this little piece of him to squirrel away into my memories before he is torn from me. If I had known, how bad it would really be, maybe I would have run for the hills then, but I cannot go back. I cannot give back what he has lost to me._

 

_Clothes are torn away or pulled to the side. His hands are everywhere and mine claw at his back as he presses his soft lips against the dense bone of my clavicle, my chest, my stomach. My whole body is taut with anticipation. Like a bowstring I wait for release._

 

_When he finally pushes into me I feel the tight fullness. I gasp and he goes still above me. The sweet grass clings to my back, my thighs._

 

_Somewhere in the back of my mind swirls the thought that we can never come back from this. There is a before and after, a was and a will be, but for now, we just look at each other. I see the fear in his eyes._

 

_“Are you okay?” He whispers._

 

_I become aware I am trembling._

 

_I nod because I can no longer speak._

 

_He starts to move inside of me and the heat is back in my stomach, the ache that feels frighteningly delicious. I gasp against the bruised skin of his shoulder and look up at the sky, endless and blue above me. The shadows of birds._

 

_Sparrows._

 

_Then stars shatter in my mind as my body goes tight, tighter. Lost in a sea of pink and haze and utter quiet, I finally fall back to earth, spent, sweaty and boneless._

 

_We lie there for awhile. Peeta heavy on top of me, a silkiness between my thighs and a soreness inside of me that isn't entirely unpleasant._

 

_But the world always finds a way to crawl back in and I can feel in circling my feet with gleaming fangs._

 

_“I love you.” Peeta whispers against the shell of my ear and those dripping fangs sink into me and I feel myself go numb. “I am done with her. Do you hear me? I will not be a piece in her game. Its you, Always.”_

 

_I glance up at the sun and sigh. “I need to go.” I say as he rolls onto his back. I miss his warmth immediately even if I wouldn't admit to him, or myself._

 

_“Are you alright?” He asks._

 

_No, I am not alright. I feel nothing because I can't because I just did the one thing I swore I would never do._

 

_I laid myself bare in front of Peeta Mellark._

 

_He saw not only my flesh but those parts of me that I try to keep so hidden from everyone, even Prim._

 

_I could never hide from him._

 

_I dress quickly and dash away from him, not giving him an answer or even a goodbye because I am a coward. I stumble toward town and the second I reach a small grouping of trees I climb the nearest one until I am high enough for him not to see me._

 

_I take in a shaky breath and then I sob. In the quiet it is violent and a flock of birds take flight, fluttering up into the sky._

 

_Because I can lie to Peeta and Prim and even my Aunt but I can no longer lie to myself._

 

_I love Peeta Mellark._

 

_The one person I can never have._

 

_It feels like I am being split down the middle._

 

_I force myself to climb down and walk the road alone. Like I always have, like I told myself I always will._

 

_I am subdued at home._

 

_I know that it is written on my face and she smiles at me tentatively but I remain stoic as I dress for work. I do let her braid my hair up into an entricate updo that my mother taught her. And when I catch my reflection I stare for a long time. My eyes are too large for my face and my cheekbones jut from under my taut skin._

 

_In my black dress I feel like I am going to a funeral and maybe in a way I am._

 

_I walk toward the Mellark estate and wonder idly if I will be serving the wine at his wedding. If I will be forced to smile as I watch him dance with someone else._

 

_I enter the backdoor and shuck my cloak. My aunt is waiting for me, her hands set on her hips and her lips curled into a sneer._

 

_“You're late, young lady.”_

 

_“I don't care.” I say flatly._

 

_When her eyes meet mine they flood with understanding and when she opens her arms up I don't hesitate to step into them._

 

_“Oh, Love.” She whispers into my hair as I sob into her chest. “Oh, get it out.” And when I finally emerge from her chest a blubbering idiot she tsks and tilts my chin up and wipes away the tears that cling to my lashes._

 

_“You are nearly a woman, Katniss.” Her voice brooks no argument. “It is time to learn to live a life with a divided heart.”_

 

_She hands me a jug of wine and I stop at the top of the stares to take in a trembling breath and then I am standing in the light._

 

_All through dinner I refuse to look at him._

 

_Then they all retire to the ballroom where Peeta will pick from the group of girls like they are no more than chattle. The whole thing makes me sick to my stomach._

 

_Girls are everywhere. In brightly dyed silks and jewels and powdered. So fine that I must look as drab as wool next to them._

 

_Delly catches my eye in a red dress that is a size too small and she offers me a sad smile._

 

_“Don't dally, child.” A voice says from behind me. I whirl and I come face to face with her. She seems bigger standing in front of you, her cold eyes looking inside of me, pulling me apart. “I am not paying you to stand around and dawdle.”_

 

_“Yes, your grace.” I say and stumble as I curtsy._

 

_She leans forward, inhaling sharply as she takes me in. I must look as frightened as I feel as she rakes her gaze over me from head to toe._

 

_“My son is quite fond of you.” I can't breathe. I grind my teeth together and tighten my grip on the jug of wine. “He is quite kind hearted and you have become a pet of his.” Her voice drips with disapproval. “He can spread your legs in those woods all he likes but he will marry a woman of title, he will have a future and I will not let a tart from the seam ruin his chances of taking over this district, do you understand me? He doesn't belong to you.”_

 

_“He doesn't belong to you either.” I snarl from my between my teeth. She smiles serenely down at me._

 

_“I can see why he likes you.” She says and with a swish of her skirt she is gone and I am left shaking in her wake._

 

_No._

 

_I won't bow down to the likes of her._

 

_I paste a wooden smile on my face and serve drinks to these girls that range from dull as wood to beautiful and sophisticated and the polar opposite of me._

 

_“Oi, dinner was dreadfully boring.” Delly says to me as I stand at the buffet table, waiting for another pitcher of wine, “Clove Freely is as vapid as a tree beetle.”_

 

_“Are tree beetles terribly vapid Delly?” I snarl grabbing up my pitcher and filling her glass and the same time._

 

_“Did you see her dress though? Must have cost more than my fathers carriage and it must've took an army of ladies to get her into that corset just in the hopes that Peeta will want to get her out of it again.”_

 

_I turn to glare at her as a someone announces something and the room grows quiet. I guess the time has come. I want to slink back but Delly grabs my hand and yanks me to the front of the crowd._

 

_Everyone waits with bated breath as Peeta stands in the candlelight in his dark jacket and fitted trousers and tightly laced boots, the crest of Panem draped over his neck._

 

_I can't breath._

 

_He circles the dance floor and I can see the heaviness in his eyes as he scans the crowd._

 

_Don't._

 

_Don't see me._

 

_He does of course, he always has even when I was a servant and nothing more at all to him. I swallow the lump in my throat and inch away from the front as he starts to walk toward me, sword on his belt jangling._

 

_Tradition dictates that he will present his sword on bended knee to his new bride and it fills me with dread because I can see the gleam in his eyes that are locked with mine. My back hits the crowd behind me and I know that I am trapped._

 

_Please don't._

 

_He is just a few feet away from me now and for a moment I think he will veer away and chose someone else. He couldn't possible be thinking what I think he is._

 

_He wouldn't be so daft._

 

_He drops down to his knee in front of me, pulling the sword from the sheath and presenting it above his head._

 

_To me._

 

_I hear the collective gasp roil through the crowd but all I see are Peeta's eyes, sly and hopeful and pleading with me._

 

_I press my hand to my stomach to keep myself steady._

 

_I take a step back and find that everyone has taken a step away from me, leaving me open and exposed to everyone, including his mother._

 

_The venom in her eyes._

 

_“What have you done?” I hiss under my breath._

 

_“I told you, I will not be a piece in her games.” He whispers, his voice earnest and heartbroken. “Please Sparrow, trust me.”_

 

_How can I when he has done this? You would have thought he planned it! Who knows maybe he did. Maybe I was a pawn in pissing his mother off and nothing more. Then a part of me nags that I know that isn't true._

 

_He is still on his knees in front of me._

 

_I can scarcely breath._

 

_His eyes are as endless as the sky I looked up into as he made me fall apart._

 

_I do trust him._

 

_I fear it isn't enough._

 

_My hands don't feel like my own as I reach out and take the sword. It is heavy and it clatters at my side._

 

_The crowd collectively gasps, whispers like fog roll over me. I can hear the shock, the outcry. Peeta Mellark, eleventh in line for the throne. A man of high renown and title. Proposing to a servant girl? Its preposterous even to me._

 

_Peeta smiles and leaps up, wrapping his arms around me and swings me around. Distantly I hear the clatter as the sword falls from my hand. I don't dare touch him for I can see over his shoulder his mothers ice cold glare. I feel something inside of me wither as Peeta takes my face in both of his hands and kisses me soundly on the lips, in front of everyone._

 

_I yank away from his grasp and make a run for the kitchen and I know he is hot on my heels but I stay a step ahead of him until I reach the back door. Just outside he grabs my elbow and whirls me around._

 

_“Why did you do that?” I sob at him._

 

_“Sparrow,”_

 

_“I'll lose my job!” I hiss. “Prim will starve! Your mother knows! She'll tell everyone, all the nobles none of them will hire me, Peeta how could you do this, why? Was it worth making her angry? Have I always been a piece in your game!” I snarl in his face. He takes a step back, I can see it on his face, I may as well of slapped him right across the face._

 

_“Good God, Katniss. Is that what you really think of me?” He says._

 

_I try to heave in some air. Anything. I feel like my lungs are on fire._

 

_“I don't know what to think!” I shriek. “I don't know what is happening. Just yesterday I was trying to figure out how my family was going to make it through winter, now I am lucky if I survive the rest of the summer thanks to you-”_

 

_“Enough.” Peeta says and its quiet but I still. He marches forward and takes my hand in his. “I promise that you will not starve.” He presses the heel of my hand against his chest. He is so steady, so solid but his heart hammers in his chest. “I won't allow it.” I can hear in his voice that he means it._

 

_“I have been stashing some of my inheritance away for awhile now. Its enough to live on, not indefinitely but enough that we could live comfortably for awhile. We could bring your mother, Primrose too. I can take care of you. I'll keep you safe, I promise.”_

 

 

_His head drops so his forehead rests against mine._

 

_“I would rather die a thousand deaths than live a life without you.”_

 

_That dead thing inside of me spreads as I detangle myself from his arms._

 

_“Can I think about it?” I ask._

 

_I can see his face fall before he schools it into a mask._

 

_“Of course.” He whispers and I know he doesn't have a lot of time, his mother will be livid. He didn't just pick a servant in a room full of noble women he also embarrassed her immensely and she isn't one to forgive and forget._

 

_“Peeta.” I rush as he has turned back to the kitchen door._

 

_I am afraid for him._

 

_“Do you want to walk me home?” He chuckles at that. In all my years working here I never asked him or anyone else to walk me home. I am of the woods, I have taken down mountain lions and bears. Peeta knows this and his eyebrow quirks but otherwise he nods and motions for me to lead the way._

_We walk in silence._

 

_I am overwhelmed from the day._

 

_I am still slightly sore from our time in the meadow and I haven't really had time to reflect on what that could mean for me. I find myself leaning against Peeta as we walk, suddenly exhausted._

 

_“Katniss?”_

 

_When did I start to like Sparrow better?_

 

_“Hmmmm”_

 

_“I'm really sorry about the trouble I caused you, I guess I didn't really think it through. I'm just tired of everyone telling me who I should be.”_

 

_“Who is it you want to be?” I ask, my bones heavy things under my skin._

 

_“Someone worthy of you.” He says quietly and when I look up at him I see the pain I've inflicted but there are others there too, his mother, his passive father, his brothers and their utterly ordinary wives all of us circling him,telling him who he should love. Telling how to be. Its despicable, I am despicable and all this time he is worried about being worthy of me?_

 

_I am the one not worthy of him._

 

_“Peeta, it will be okay.” I say and my words slur with exhaustion._

 

_“How do you know?”_

 

_“I just do.”_

 

_I don't know though._

 

_We are at a beginning and an end and when I invite him inside and kiss him I know we are living on borrowed time._

 

_We cannot save each other._

 

 

XX.XX

 

I become aware of him first.

 

Then the light around us as morning dawns, bright and blue.

 

And then Johanna and Finnick cackling over us.

 

“Oi, have a nice night then?” Johanna says much too loud, right in my ear. I grab the pillow from under my head and fling it in her direction.

 

“Ow.” Peeta says sleepily from somewhere behind me.

 

“What have you two been up to I wonder?” Finnick says, poking my cheek.

 

“Why are you guys watching us sleep?”

 

“Because it beats watching me sleep.” Darius mutters sleepily from across the room.

 

“Katniss, are you naked under that blanket?” Finnick asks and I fling myself upward with nothing left to throw at him. I feel myself going red and I curse under my breath.

 

“Imagine this Finnick,” Johanna says. “Imagine having a little frowning Katniss baby in nine months.”

 

“Imagine Katniss pregnant.” He says and they both dissolve into giggles.

 

I kick off my blankets and storm off leaving Peeta to deal with them. I hate being teased. I hate both of them.

 

I sit my ass down on the porch and stare out at the gray rolling waves in the distance.

 

Peeta sits next to me.

 

“Do you want breakfast?” He says.

 

I mutter something unkind into my knee.

 

“Do you want pancakes?”

 

I give him a sideways glance and he smiles triumphantly. Standing up and offering me his hand. I let him lift me up and set me onto the sand worn wood.

 

Soon I am sitting with a steaming plate of fluff and honey.

 

And I can't bare to eat them.

 

“Come on, then.” He says at my back. “Dig in.”

 

He sounds breathless and excited, like a different person entirely. He becomes a whirlwind of questions. Do I want tea? Can he make me some more cakes? Do I want to go for a walk down the beach? But soon the questions die down into a soft, shy smile and a light kiss. And my head ends up in his lap while he plays with my hair.

 

“Tell me a story?” He says softly.

 

I am full of food and my lips taste like honey and his fingers in my hair are a luxary I thought I would never feel again, so I do.

 

It isn't a happy story. Its wrought with pain and heartbreak. My words weave a tapestry of everything I felt in the two years he was gone from me. I tell him of the fire. I tell him about my mother and how my sister nursed me back to health.

 

When I am done I am empty and dull and exhausted but lighter than I have been in years.

 

He is quiet for some time.

 

“Can I tell you a story?” He asks. I look out at the sea birds that sail in the distant sky and nod and he tells me a story of a little girl in a red dress on her fathers shoulders, a little boy watching her as the birds fell silent.

 

My heart clenches in my chest.

 

His voice dies off.

 

It is the end.

 

But that isn't right.

 

That was only the beginning.

 

XX.XX

 

We walk in the surf.

 

And stumble in the waves.

 

I run up the beach and hide from him.

 

He seeks me out and kisses me, his hand cradling my jaw.

 

Tomorrow, we find out our destines.

 

Today I am just a sparrow fluttering up toward the sky.

 

XX.XX  
  


 

_I become._

 

_That is how I feel._

 

_Like my whole life I have been becoming._

 

_Now I am cradled against him I feel like nothing can hurt me. Not his mother, not the sheriff or the king, not starvation or even death._

 

_I was always destined to be here._

 

_I roll over, being careful not to wake him and I study the light playing on his face. Catching on his golden eyelashes that are so impossibly long._

 

_My finger comes up and brushes the edge of the thin skin on the bridge of his nose._

 

_Suddenly his arm wraps around us and he flips me easily as I squeak. He has me pinned underneath him._

 

_“Good morning.” He says, kissing my shoulder. I can't stop the sudden smile on my face._

 

_“Good morning.” I say and I try to be sour about it but I can't because he is kissing my neck and I feel that coil winding tighter in my belly._

 

_My hair is a rats nest, I know without looking and my breath must be awful. I roll my tongue around in my mouth and try to wiggle away from him, my breath is horrible._

 

_His hand is gliding its way down my stomach, inching lower and lower._

 

_“Peeta.” I whisper and my voice is husky from sleep._

 

_His fingers inch lower still._

 

_“You know what you need?”_

 

_I hum, my back already bowing up toward him. I would give anything to him right now. If he asked me for my very soul it would be his._

 

_“What?” I whisper breathless and wild. His finger traces a circle in the space just under my belly button._

 

_“Breakfast.” He whispers, kissing my hair and standing._

 

_I watch his broad shoulders as he walks toward the kitchen, every square inch of me tight and on edge and also- smiling._

 

_“Kit?” I whirl around and Prim is standing in the doorway in her nightgown, She must have gone to sleep with our mother._

 

_“Morning, Little Duck.” I say, mortification coursing through me. She smiles cheekily and jumps over the pallet on the floor, peeking into our little room that serves as our kitchen._

 

_“Is that Peeta Mellark making cornmeal mush in our kitchen?” She hisses._

 

_“Um, yeah.” I whisper back, covering my face with my hand._

 

_“Why is Peeta Mellark making cornmeal mush in our kitchen?” She sounds almost calm but I can hear the excitement building in her voice._

 

_“Did you?” She stumbles over herself to get the question out._

 

_“Oi, how do you know about that?” I hiss as she rolls her eyes._

 

_“Did you?”_

 

_“Uh, maybe, um, not here, not last night but yeah-” There is no sense in lying to her, my little sister is a bloodhound about secrets, but at least I can trust her with it._

 

_A beat of silence._

 

_Then she squeals and jumps onto the pallet. She climbs right in with me and lays her head on my shoulder._

 

_“I knew he liked you!” She says quickly. “He's so sweet! Oh Kit it is so romantic!”_

 

_“Is it worth it?” I whisper to her. “Is it worth my life, his life?”_

 

_She smiles down at me. “I think if it is real love, it is worth all the risk in the world.”_

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There is something truly evil in men that play with others lives.” I say. “Especially to shift the power to their own gain.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Isn’t that what you are doing?” He asks. “Isn’t that what you did when you ran away from court? Your future bride? Your life? Shifting the odds to your favor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys here is the deal I am moving across the country in three weeks and my writing has been all over the place i know and my stories may not be updated for a little while but I promise you that I am still working on them in bits and pieces and they are not abandoned. (I would never do that to you guys.) Thank you all so much for all of your kudos and reviews and being so, so patient with me. I see you all, I love you all. You're tge best.
> 
> I need to say a huge thank you to Shannon17. She is an angel! the sweetest! the best friend/beta/cheerleader a girl could ask for. I love ya Shannon!!!!!

_ I never see it coming. _

 

_ I am just stepping through the door when the marble box comes flying at my head. I tilt my arm up but the corner catches my forehead and the box skids across the floor. My mother stands across the room, hands on hips, face cool as she stares at me as I try to staunch the bleeding.  _

 

_ “Oh, you’re fine.” She huffs as she watches the red spread across my hands, drip between my fingers and onto my shirt, across her freshly waxed wood. “Quit bleeding all over the floors.”  _

 

_ “Is that what you’re upset about mother?” I say, pressing my hand against the gash on my forehead and breathing in the harsh, coppery scent of blood. _

 

_ “Really we can just add it to the list, don’t you think?” She sighs in a world weary kind of way. “I don’t know why you couldn’t have been more like your brothers, both Rye and Bran married well, woman from other districts but you-” _

 

_ “I what, mother?” I feel the sting somewhere in my chest, it goes along with the voice in my head that tells me no matter what I do, I’ll never be enough for her.  The sting is a wound in and of itself and I hardly notice it anymore. I do notice the way the room shimmers and spins in a way that has nothing to do with the summer sun that streams through the open windows.  _

 

_ “You’ve always been so- so-” _

 

_ I just stand there, trying to keep myself upright as she glares down her nose at me. White stars dance in my vision but I keep my shoulders stiff and my spine straight, I will not give her the satisfaction of seeing me slump to the floor.  _

 

_ “You always were the disappointing one. I mean really is it so hard to marry Delly Cartwright and take over your father's place when he dies? I mean really Peeta? A servant? You couldn’t have embarrassed me more if you had proposed to the milking cow.”  _

 

_ I feel the twitch of my lips and know full well I am about to earn a slap but I can’t bring myself to care. “I’d rather propose to the milk cow than any one of those vapid girls.” She strikes like a snake and I can’t help the buckle of my knees as I fall into the table closest to the door, the vase of flowers shattering against the floor.  _

 

_ “You will marry a noble,” Her voice is like ice. “You will continue the Mellark bloodline so help me son or you both will know my anger.” _

 

_ I press my hand harder against my blood slicked skin.  _

 

_ “Like I haven’t?” I whisper.  _

 

_ “My son.” She says almost ruefully, pressing her hand to my cheek. “This was nothing.”  _

 

_ The moment she steps into the dining room my knees buckle. _

 

_ I hadn’t realized that the entire staff had heard the whole exchange.  _

 

_ Leevy is at my side in an instant, trying to help me up. I am too far gone to feel any shame as the other girls start to clean up the shards of glass and flower petals from the floor. I am dizzy and tired and cold.  _

 

_ It takes some time but Leevy finally deposits me on my bed and throws open the windows for me. I try to press a coin in her hand but she shakes her head.  _

 

_ “Oh master, don’t worry about that none.” She says but doesn’t elaborate. “Shall I get Katniss?”  _

 

_ “No,” I whisper. “She’s out with her sister, she will hear soon enough, thank you Leevy.”  _

 

_ With a dip of her head and a swish of her skirt she is gone.  _

  
  


_ I must fall asleep because the next thing I am aware of the sky is black and Katniss is slipping through my window.  _

 

_ “What are you doing?” I ask her, my voice groggy with sleep.  _

 

_ “Your head.” Her voice is nearly a whisper. Her fingers reach out across the empty space between us but then she tucks them back at her side, eyes darting around. _

 

_ “It’s fine.” I can’t help my dismissive tone. Katniss slips forward on silent feet until her face is inches from mine, her smoky eyes examining the cut on my face. A firm scowl planted on her face.  _

 

_ “Your Mother is a horrid gutter rat.” She says fiercely.  _

 

_ I bark out a laugh but swallow it quickly because her cool hands are on my cheeks, holding me firmly as she tilts my head to get a better look. “My sister has something for the swelling.” Her eyes fall to my sword sitting forgotten by my wardrobe, her eyes locked on the steel. Her voice dies out and she sighs.  _

 

_ “Katniss?” She pulls her braid over her shoulder and her eyes rip away from the sword to stare at me. _

 

_ I almost wish she’d look away.  _

 

_ “It's because of me that she does these things.” Her chin is trembling. _

 

_ My hands can’t help themselves, they wind there way around her waist and pull her toward me gently, carefully.  _

 

_ “Katniss, you do not control her. Her marriage with my father- He-” _

 

_ “Don’t excuse this Peeta. There is no reason to hurt you ever.”  _

 

_ “I am not excusing her, Katniss. I just wonder sometimes, who she would be if she had been able to marry for love.”  _

 

_ “She doesn’t love your father?”  _

 

_ “I think for a while they were happy, when I was young… but they disagree on a lot of things and it has taken a toll on their marriage.”  _

 

_ “Is that why your father is hardly home?”  _

 

_ “I think.” I say.  _

 

_ “Let me get a rag.” She slips out the door like a shadow and is back before I can take a breath. She warms a wet cloth over the coals of my fire and finally turns to me. She takes in a deep shuddering breath and inches closer.  _

 

_ I scarcely breathe as I watch her face, lips set into a firm frown and eyebrows knitted together in grim determination, she looks like she does when she is hunting.  _

 

_ “Don’t move.” She demands in a hard voice and I am left to stare up at her helplessly as she washes the dried blood from my hair, my skin. Then she works on my hands. When she finally lets out a breath the cloth is soaked red and I am clean. _

 

_ “ I should be going.” She says, not quite meeting my eyes.  _

 

_ “Sparrow.”  _

 

_ “Peeta, you need to rest.”  _

 

_ “I am feeling much better now, thanks to you.” I smirk, winding my arms around her again. The firelight flickers and it casts shadows on her face, makes her eyes dark as coal. She shifts her weight and stares at the window almost longingly.  _

 

_ “Katniss?”  _

 

_ “I lost my job today.” She say flatly.  _

 

_ “Katniss-”  _

 

_ “Please tell me that I haven’t killed my sister.”  _

 

_ I do the only thing I can think of. I grab her face a little rougher than I mean to. I force her to look me in the eyes when I say it.  _

 

_ “ I will not let you starve.” Even I am surprised at the tone of my voice, sharp and sure. “And you would never let that little girl starve.”  _

 

_ She is silent a long time, her eyes searching mine.  _

 

_ “How do you know?” She says and her voice cracks.  _

 

_ “Because,” I say with a smile, pulling her closer and this time she doesn’t resist, she sits next to me on my bed. “Because you are the best big sister in all of Panem, because you are as clever as a fox and you can hunt. And you would defy death itself to keep that little girl alive.”  _

 

_ “I fear it isn’t enough this time Peeta.”  _

 

_ “Katniss, you never have been able to see yourself very clearly.” I whisper, suddenly entranced by this little freckle on her collarbone. My finger comes up and brushes it gently.  _

 

_ “You are the strongest, bravest, most beautiful lady I have ever met.” She snorts and rolls her eyes but I am too busy trying to press my lips against her neck to be offended.  _

 

_ “Lady, indeed. I think you need to see Prim, I fear you might have brain damage.”  _

 

_ “Perhaps.” I say my fingers already unlacing the front of her canvas shirt. Kissing her shoulder when her shirt slides down her arm. _

 

_ “ Peeta, quit it.” She snaps and I do, I sigh and look up at her through my eyelashes. “She hates me.” She whispers earnestly.  _

 

_ “She hates me too. And the girl who put too much cream in her coffee this morning and the woman who did the washing last week… Katniss she is a bad mood in and of herself.” I say with an edge of what I hope sounds like wry humor. I haven’t done anything to soothe her, she worries her lip between her teeth and curls her legs under her. She looks like the girl she is, not the huntress, not the fearless woman of the woods. My hand comes up and brushes her cheekbone.  _

 

_ “Everything will be alright.” I whisper.  _

 

_ “How do you know that?” Her chest heaves and I fear she will cry.  _

 

_ “Because I am here and while I am here nothing bad will happen to you. We are a team, alright?”  _

 

_ Every muscle is tense as we stare at each other. She is steel and smoke and then she has pressed her lips against mine and I am instantly putty in her hands. All I know are her hands roaming my back and her teeth scraping my neck.  _

 

_ Let me die here.  _

  
  


_ The next thing I know blue morning light is streaming through my open window and I ache everywhere. I reach over and find the sheets next to me are cold and I sit suddenly, wiping the sleep from my eyes. _

 

_ “Sparrow?”  _

 

_ She flew away.  _

 

_ My heart drops into my stomach. _

 

_ “I’m here,” she whispers. She is fingering the cool metal tip of my sword. “Just admiring your sword.” She is dressed in nothing but a cranberry throw blanket. _

 

_ “Sparrow?” _

 

_ “Did you mean it?”  _

 

_ “The proposal?” I whisper and she nods like she sees something in my eyes. I nod.  _

 

_ “Of course, you crazy bird.” I say.  _

 

_ “Peeta this isn’t a joke.”  _

 

_ “I’m not laughing.” I grit out between my teeth. “Now come back to bed, please?”  She does climbing under the blankets next to me and I flinch when her freezing feet hit my leg. My arm goes around her stomach, a reaction. Instinct.  _

 

_ “I will take you away from here.” I whisper into the place where her shoulder meets her neck. “One day this will have been just a bad dream.”  _

 

_ “I hope so Peeta.” She says and she sounds subdued, soft. She doesn’t believe me. I kiss the place behind her ear and she squeaks and I live in the light of the rare smile I have pulled from her.  _

 

_ “Now, how do you feel about breakfast?”  _

 

_ I sneak downstairs and when I come back she is half asleep, her hair wild against my pillow.  _

 

_ “I hope Sparrows like strawberries.” I say and we gorge ourselves on sugared berries and warm bread and fresh cheese. She leans against my chest and I run my hands through her hair as she doses happily. We stay in bed for so long I almost forget the ache in my head and the distant screech of my mother.  _

 

_ I forget everything but the girl in my arms. Sunshine.  _

 

_ Tell me something happy. _

 

_ That is what she asks of me.  _

 

_ So I tell her about a bird fluttering up toward the warmth of the sun.  _

 

_ “I have something I want to show you.” She says. _

 

_ I would have been content to stay in my bed all day but she insists we dress and she helps me fumble out of my window and down to the lawn below.  _

 

_ “Where are you taking me Little Bird?” I ask, grasping her hand. She tosses her braid over her shoulder and sticks her nose up in the air, but she is smiling.  _

_ “It is a surprise.”  _

 

_ We walk slowly, avoiding town and prying eyes. We walk through the field of posies and through the hip high grass in the meadow. We cross the fence and walk in silence and I don’t mind the heat of the sun against my sweat soaked skin. I don’t worry about my mother waiting in the confines of the district or the sheriff that would put us in the stocks just for being passed the fence. No, I am only focused on the girl next to me, her hand warm in mine.  _

 

_ “Are you sure we aren’t lost?” I say flatly. _

 

_ “We are not lost!” She snaps, finally fed up with my questions, we’ve been out here hours and I am not entirely convinced that she hasn’t been taking us in circles. The forest this far out looks the same no matter which way you turn. _

 

_ But then I see it. _

 

_ The river. _

 

_ “Come on.” She says with a grin. _

 

_ She leads me to a small cove of water where the current isn’t as swift. She shrugs off her quiver and bow and strips off her jacket.  _

 

_ “This is beautiful.” I whisper and she rolls her eyes.  _

 

_ “This isn’t the surprise.” She grouses. “Take off your shirt.” I raise my eyebrows at her. _

 

_ “We’re going for a swim.” She says as her cheeks flush. I wink and the pleasant blush turns to a glare.  _

 

_ “Take off your shirt.” She commands. I can’t help the twist of my eyebrows as she holds her hand out expectantly.  _

 

_ “Excuse me?” I grin. “When did you get to start ordering me about?”  _

 

_ “Right around the time you started thinking I’d slip out of my knickers at your smile.” She teases saucily. “Shirt. Now.” _

 

_ I laugh but shuck my shirt off and toss it to her.  _

 

_ “Get in the water.” _

 

_ I turn and I swear now faced with it the water looks quicker, darker.  _

 

_ When she doesn’t hear me respond she turns.  _

 

_ “What?”  _

 

_ “I-uh. I can’t swim-” I don’t know why I feel so embarrassed by it. It isn’t like I had a place to learn like she did but still I feel the hot flush flood my face anyway and look at my feet.  _

 

_ She doesn’t say anything so I am forced to peek up at her where she stands there, stock still, looking at me like I have two heads.  _

 

_ “So you think you will drown?” She says finally, an odd cadence to her voice, it almost sounds like she is amused. Her hands go to her hips.   _

 

_ “Considering I would sink like a stone?” I say looking back at the water. “Drowning is a fair concern I’d think.” _

 

_ “You think I would let that happen?” She twists her lips into a smirk. _

 

_ Pretty, I think. _

 

_ She tilts her body toward me and I watch helplessly as she places her hand firmly on my chest and pushes me backward. The next thing I am aware of is the weightlessness. I am suspended in nothing. The cool water holding me up and I swear I have never felt so free in my life The sunlight above beautiful and blinding, then my lungs start to ache and I gasp for air. Water floods my mouth and burns my nostrils and my lungs sing for air. I am helpless. Drowning. _

 

_ A hand reaches down and grabs me. Yanking me up and the second I reach the surface I am sputtering and coughing. “I could of died!” I stammer furiously. She throws her head back and laughs. _

 

_ “Quit being so dramatic!” She laughs. “You can stand up.”  _

 

_ My bare feet hit the rocks and I stand there, uncertain of what to do next as Katniss swims around me like a minnow, I catch glimpses of her bare back as she flips and does somersaults and finally climbs me, its only then that I realize she isn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. Her arms lock around my neck and she kisses me soundly.  _

 

_ “I thought you were going to teach me to swim?” I say, trying to kiss her but I can’t seem to stop my lips from turning up into a grin. _

 

_ “I will.” She says, pressing a kiss into the corner of my mouth.  _

  
  
  


I’ve known her since she was nothing more than a skinny, sunburned child and yet she has never seemed so small as she does now, ankles swallowed by the foamy surf, staring out at the sun setting on the horizon. 

 

“Katniss?” 

 

She turns and regards me with dark eyes. 

 

“Peeta.” She whispers. 

 

“You’ve been out here most of the night. Are you alright? Are you worried about Plutarch?” 

 

“I am worried about many a great many things,” She says and it sounds almost dismissive. The scar along her cheek twitches as she frowns. “But yes, I am worried about Plutarch.” 

 

“I am a good listener.” I say, planting my feet firmly in the sand next to her. The surf surges over my boots. In the distance a gull screams.

 

She is silent a long time, her silver eyes match the storms on the horizon as she leans down and dips her hand into the ocean and shivers. 

 

“Am I leading them into the grave?” She glances back at Finnick who has Rue on his shoulders while she tries to reach the high crabapples in a nearby tree. “Will I be the death of everyone I love?” 

 

“Sparrow-”

 

“I’m not a child so please don’t treat me as such.” 

 

I open my mouth to tell her that neither one of us have been children in some time. That innocence died on a fall day two years ago. A day that ended in misery and pain. I reach out and my finger grazes the cool skin of her scar, pale and pink and a sharp contrast to the rest of her face. 

 

“Don’t touch them.” She snaps, pushing away my fingers. “They’re ugly.” 

 

Has she forgotten that we match? 

 

XX.XX

 

We retrace our steps for our weapons and Katniss is unusually stoic as she slips her quiver and bow under her cloak and fetches our horses from the livry. She passes me a sword without a word as Gale and Johanna whisper furiously behind her back. I expect her to silence them but she doesn’t she just mounts her horse in one fluid motion and sets the way. Rue rides up next to me. 

 

“She’s just frightened.” She chirps, offering me a smile. “She’ll be alright once this is all over.” I am not sure if Rue realizes what kind of a man Plutarch really is. He seems jovial but he is cunning as a fox and willing to play whatever side he needs to lean the odds to his favor, no matter who might get caught in the crosshairs. What he wants with Katniss I am not certain but I am certain that whatever that reason, it is to his benefit. 

 

“I thought she learned long ago to trust her instincts.” I say offhand, not really thinking anyone would answer me. 

 

Johanna does. 

 

“Look at where her instincts about you got her.” 

 

“Fair enough.” I breath. At least she smiles at me. 

 

The address he gave us is clear across the district and it takes us all day. We stop halfway to eat and Darius and Gale toss around an apple as Johanna and Finnick bask in the sun nearby. Katniss plays with Rue’s curls while I try to pretend I am not sneaking glances at her.

 

“Won’t you sing something Katniss?” Rue says sleepily against her chest and Katniss smiles into the girls hair. It reminds me of how she is with Prim. “Oh please.” 

 

Katniss huffs but looks up at the sky and I know the younger girl has won. 

 

I haven’t heard her voice in so long it's like wisps of smoke in my memory 

 

I had forgotten how vitriol. How lovely. 

  
  


There will come a soldier

who carries a mighty sword.

He will tear your city down, o lei, o lai, o lord

O lei, o lai, o lord

He will tear your city down, o lei, o lai, o lord

 

There will come a poet

whose weapon is his word.

He will slay you with his tongue, o lei, o lai, o lord

O lei, o lai, o lord

He will slay you with his tongue, o lei, o lai, o lord

 

There will come a ruler

whose brow is laid in thorn

Smeared with oil like David's boy, o lei, o lai, o lord

O lei, o lai, o lord

Smeared with oil like David's boy, lei, o lai, o lord

 

O lei, o lai, o lord

He will tear your city down

O lei, o lai

  
  


It isn’t the first time I have heard this song. She sang it to me once before on a night like velvet as we laid in the grass behind my house, counting stars. 

 

Are we even the same people anymore?

 

When I look up at her she is watching me like she is waiting for me to run. I just stand and smile at Rue as I walk toward my horse. 

 

She is silent as a cat behind me. 

 

“Peeta.” I turn to look at her. Head hung like a dog caught stealing scraps and I am not even sure she knows why she is upset. 

 

“Yes, Katniss.” 

 

“I never thanked you- for- for that day.” We both tighten at the memory, I remind myself that it is still only a memory. Nothing more. 

 

“Do not thank me for keeping you safe. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” 

 

I can still hear the peacekeepers though, sometimes, when I close my eyes. The crack of leather against skin. The searing sting of sweat dripping into an open wound. I can still hear Katniss scream my name in the stark silence around us. Her always her. My eyes snap open and just before my eyes adjust to the dark I swear she was just there, chest heaving as they drag her away from me.

 

“That’s what I am afraid of.” She whispers. We both remain quiet for a time. It could be eons or seconds. I am not sure. “I am sorry we didn’t help that man being whipped.” She says and when I glance over at her the grief in her eyes is tangible, as if I could reach out and pluck it from her as easily as an apple. 

 

“Katniss, there was nothing to be done.” I say and it takes her awhile but she swallows and bobs her head. 

 

“Still,” It is so quiet. “I am sorry for so many things.” 

 

I press my lips to hers and smile but I fear it looks like a grimace. “Little Sparrow, fear nothing. We are a team, remember?” 

 

The look on her face nearly breaks my heart in two.

 

She nods again and we don’t speak but we ride next to each other the rest of the way. 

 

XX.XX

 

“It’s a church.” Darius mutters as my horse comes to a stop next to his. 

 

“It appears to be.”

 

“No need to be a smartass Mellark.”

 

I give him a wry smile as I eye the run down building. The steeple caving in and moss growing up one whole side. The only clue anyone else is here is an ancient old horse gnawing on some grass near what used to be the entrance. All is quiet. As usual I look to Katniss. She slides off her horse and we all follow suit. 

 

_ “ _ Well, Mockingjay?” Finnick says before I have a chance. 

 

In the distance the surf crashes against the sand and birds flutter in the trees. 

 

“Finnick and Gale, take the upper ground. Johanna, Rue and Darius guard the perimeter.” 

 

“Anything else?” I ask. 

 

“You, Peeta Mellark, are staying with me.” She whispers.

 

Gale grumbles under his breath, his hand twisting his sword. I watch as Katniss snaps her head in his direction, and they watch each other carefully. “Is there a problem Mister Hawthorne?” She asks, her voice slate. 

 

“No, your grace.” He says with a low bow. 

 

“I wouldn’t ‘ave done that mate.” Finnick says as Johanna and Darius snicker. Katniss glances at me but I don’t even have time to open my mouth to speak. She has his own sword to his throat that fast. 

 

“ I asked you if there was a problem Mister Hawthorne.” 

 

I can see the fear in his eyes but he doesn’t betray himself as she tilts his chin upward with the tip of the sword. He smirks at her as he says it. 

 

“No, M’lady. I would never dream of crossing the likes of you:” 

 

“Excellent.” She says finally, her narrowed eyes watching him for a moment more before returning the sword to him. 

 

“Master Mellark stays with me.” Her voice sounds like it has been dipped in iron. “Does anyone else have a problem with that.” 

 

No one does. 

 

XX.XX

 

“You still remember how to use that thing?” I ask her as we walk, I pull an arrow from her quiver and she snatches it back. 

 

“Do you remember how to use  _ that  _ thing?” She says tilting her chin toward my sword. 

 

I can help the wry grin that crosses my face. She looks like the girl I remember, braid spilling over her shoulder, deerskin pants, bad attitude. She settles her face into a frown as we reach the doorway and slip under the beam of wood that has it blocked, easier for her, she has to help me crawl under it. 

 

She nocks the arrow she is holding as we step into the dimly lit church. Plutarch stands alone at what looks like an old alter. The hem of his purple robe is dusty but he doesn’t seem to mind as he stares up at the stained glass depiction of the virgin Mary. Her eye has been smashed and sunlight streams through the hole, casting shadows across Plutarch's face. 

 

“Miss Mockingjay, it is so good to see you again.” He says without looking at us. I glance over at Katniss, her arm trembles but she doesn’t dare lower her bow. “With her gentle knight at her side, Mr Mellark, Your mother will be so pleased to know you are well.” 

 

“I doubt it.” I hope my voice sounds nonchalant, flippant even. “She is probably busy with my fathers retirement ceremony to notice I am no longer at court.” 

 

“Peeta please give your mother more credit than that.” Plutarch smiles serenely. “She was devastated to hear about your death in the woods. Think how happy she was to hear you were still alive and well!” 

 

“I’m sure she had a parade through the streets.” I say. 

 

He turns his attention on Katniss and I don’t like the way his eyes linger on her face, raking over her like she is a piece of meat. Katniss stiffens under his gaze and her eyes narrow as finally he laughs. 

 

“Oh, she is a pretty one.” He chirps as the ancient stairs groan beneath his weight. He stops when he reaches her and she is forced to lower her bow. His hand juts out and grabs her chin, dragging her forward where he examines her scars in the light. I have my hand on my sword but I am careful not to unsheath it yet. Plutarch is bound to have men in the shadows. I can not fight them alone. “Too bad she is damaged.” He finally says dismissively and lets her go. She reels back, her braid whipping around as she nocks and arrow at the two men now standing in the doorway. We are trapped in here.

 

“What do you want with me?” Katniss snarls, more to the men than to Plutarch. 

 

“Child, you have slipped from the kings grasp more than once. He has been beside himself trying to smoke you out of the woods. Yet still, here you stand, bow in hand, your district better fed than its been in generations and all thanks to a woman, a girl really, that couldn’t weigh more than one hundred pounds.” He shakes his head. “What is it you call her Peeta?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. 

 

“A Sparrow? Yes, indeed. She just flies right over the guards head. She is no Mockingjay. No hero. But we already knew that Peeta didn’t we?” I am reeling, there are only maybe a handful of people who know Katniss and I, who know my nickname for her. Who is the betrayer?

 

“Sir, I am not sure I follow.” I say. 

 

“How do you evade capture young Sparrow?” 

 

“I’m just lucky I guess.” Katniss says and to her credit she sounds nearly bored. 

 

“Yes, quite lucky.”

 

He turns to me, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles.”What about Master Mellark, Is he as lucky.” 

 

Katniss meets my eyes over his shoulder and for a moment I see it pass over her face, fear. Her eyes bounce between Plutarch and I and I shake my head subtly. She narrows her eyes at me and her hand tightens on the dagger she has in her belt. 

 

“I trust you are smart enough not to use that on me little Sparrow.” 

 

He turns on her. 

 

“What is it exactly that you want from me?” She sneers. 

 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Plutarch says with a smile. “Well, we are going to kill the king. I thought that would be perfectly obvious by now.” 

 

The world swims around me as my head shoots up to look at Katniss so fast my neck cracks. 

 

“What?” Katniss breathes. “Kill the king.” 

 

“Why yes.” He says with a complacent smile.

 

Katniss stands up straighter. “Safe to say that is treason sir. Stealing a bit of gold is nothing compared to that.” 

 

“He murdered your father Katniss.” Plutarch says sharply. “And many more before him. Wouldn’t you love to be the one who took the light from his eyes, the air from his lungs.” 

 

“Katniss.” I say softly. 

 

“Shut up!” Plutarch wails at me. The men behind us slip forward. Hands at their hips and I have no choice but to be quiet. 

 

“I relish in the death of no one sir. Not even a King as horrid as our own. I will not be killing anyone for you. I will leave the death of nobles to be squabbled over by other nobles. I think I’ll be keeping my neck to myself sir.” 

 

“Either way, you are dead, child.” I glance over at Katniss but she betrays nothing. “He will eventually find you and hang you. You will die sobbing.” She looks him dead in the eyes as he says it. 

 

“At least this way, your friends stand a chance of living.” 

 

“My friends?” 

 

Men step from the shadows. Finnick and Johanna have swords to their throats, Gale too. They must not have found little Rue. Katniss steps forward, dagger out, her eyes locked on Plutarch. 

 

“Grab her.” He orders, stepping back and one of the two men grab her roughly by the shoulder and she cries out in pain. My sword is out before I can even think but just as I reach her someone knocks me to the floorboards. I flip myself around but a boot connects with my throat and the man shifts his weight until I am gasping for air. Helpless.

 

“Please.”I hear Katniss whisper as my lungs scream and my hands grasp at anything they can. White spots dance at the edge of my vision. “You’re killing him.” She pleads. I grab at the mans pants as he sneers, just as the darkness creeps up on me he releases his hold, leaving me dazed and coughing, trying to suck in what little air I can. 

 

“Peeta?” I can barely register Katniss’s voice, soft and pleading. 

 

“I’m alright.” 

 

“Come now, I hate violence.” Plutarch says flippantly, waving his hand. “Now as I was saying. At least this way your friends will live, your sister.” 

 

Katniss goes still. Her face betrays nothing but I can see the cold panic that has washed over her.

 

“My sister?”

 

More men come from outside, dragging her between them. She is limp and her skin has a sickly sheen to it. Her face is black and blue. But as they pass me, her one good eye peeks up at me, bright blue as the sky on a summer's day, 

 

“Primrose.” Her voice is ice. I can hear the sneer of her lip and I know the man would be dead if Katniss could reach her bow. Her arrow. 

 

“Settle, love.” Plutarch says. “She isn’t permanently damaged, although I can not say the same for her guard.”

 

“Haymitch! What did you do to Haymitch!”

 

“He is alive.” Plutarch whispers cryptically. “As long as you do as I say.” 

 

Katniss is shoved to her knees in front of Plutarch. 

 

“Now, my dear, tell me, can you dance?” 

 

XX.XX

I fight.

 

I plead.

 

They take her anyway. I am left to watch helplessly as Plutarch has her drug to a horse. Her limp feet leaving tracks in the dust. Her braid hanging down across her face limply.

 

“Now, my boy.” He whispers in my ear. “No need to fret, you will see her again in a few weeks time. I know it can feel like forever. Young love and all.” 

 

“You’ll be killed for this.”  I say. “For your rebellion against the crown.” 

 

“Son, my family has been bowing to yours for generations. I think it is time for a change, don’t you?” 

 

“Sounds like a thought that gets magistrates beheaded.” I snarl. He laughs and claps my back as I stare at the place where Katniss was at my side. I’ve lost her again. 

 

“Don’t look so dour your grace, you get exactly what you want.” 

 

My eyes meet his and I am certain I hate him. I hate everything he stands for. 

 

“I get the crown. You get her. A fair trade don’t you think?” 

 

“She isn’t a broodmare to be traded.” I snap. 

 

“Isn’t she though? Aren’t they all?” He motions to Finnick, still brawling with one of the guards. Johanna staring at us with a sneer as she writhes against her bindings. Gale and Darius knocked cold on the ground.

 

“There is something truly evil in men that play with others lives.” I say. “Especially to shift the power to their own gain.” 

 

“Isn’t that what you are doing?” He asks. “Isn’t that what you did when you ran away from court? Your future bride? Your life? Shifting the odds to your favor?” 

 

“Not like this.” I say. “I didn’t beat children to get what I wanted.”

 

He waves his hand. “The girl will be fine with time. With any luck Katniss and yourself will have done your job and you can take them wherever you like and hide them away where no one can touch them again. You have my word.” He says.

 

“When has that ever mattered, Mr Heavensbee?” 

 

XX.XX

 

It is just how I remembered.

 

The long empty road before me is lined by green lawns. I can smell the gardens from here, sweet lilacs and roses, oleanders and poppies, sunflowers and sweet peas. The fountains glisten silver in the sunlight and it is a sharp contrast to the palace behind them, painted in shimmering gold and pale blue it makes my home in twelve seem like a hut. 

 

Still, it takes my breath away. 

 

The horse shifts under me, eager and waiting for me to urge him on. 

 

“This is it?” Finnick asks, shading his eyes with his hand and staring at the palace that shines like an oasis before us. 

 

“Yes,” I say. 

 

“It's… homey.” 

 

“Quite.” I say drolly and Johanna sighs behind us. 

 

“Lets just hope your girl is here and not dead in a ditch somewhere.” She shifts her weight and her dress, the color of whipped strawberries, slides down slightly. “I’m already cranky.” She pushes the sleeve back up onto her shoulder and kicks her horse forward as Finnick and Darius laugh at her back. 

 

“Lady or not, I’ll still stick my axe in your face.” She snaps and they shut up real quick. 

 

The entrance to the palace is magnificent in its own right. The archway is made of glistening gold and is intertwined with moss covered trees that hang over the courtyard offering shade. The ponds are cool and hang stagnant but there are fragrant lilies floating in them. Children laugh and play in the fountains while women lounge in the grass, chatting amongst each other as they fatten themselves with cakes decorated with only the best berries.  There dresses shimmering golds, soft cream and lace, pinks that hurt your eyes.

 

It's sickening really.

 

“How charming.” Johanna states flatly. “It's good my sisters starved to death while your family had all this.” 

 

“They aren’t my family.” I say sharply. Sliding off my horse and staring out at the lilac fields beyond the palace and wonder idly if Madge is still here or if she gave up and returned to One. Children laugh and dart around us as the group stares around us in awe. 

 

A boy comes to take our horses. 

 

“Where did Finnick go?” Johanna grumbles, smoothing her dress down with lace gloved fingers

 

I turn around to find Finnick surrounded by a flock of girls who could be no more than sixteen. They laugh at something he has said as I bark that the king is waiting for us. He winks at them and sauter's back toward us as Johanna hisses something in his ear. 

 

“If Katniss isn’t here I say we just burn it down and be done with this. My dress chaffs.” Johanna snarls and I laugh.

 

But she is here, she has to be.

 

The alternative is that I have lost her again.

  
  


The footman leads us up the veranda and through the main doors that creak loudly when you open them. 

 

He names us each as we enter.

 

The plan is set into motion as I stand in the entrance way, even engulfed by gold, nothing can outshine her. Her dress is in hues of gold and orange and red and it shimmers around her like fire. Her hair cascading around her face that even under a pound of makeup, looks fierce and mean and delicate all at the same time. 

 

She glares at me from the top of the staircase. Her eyes narrow at me critically and sigh. I know the basics of Plutarch’s plan, that Plutarch came across me wild eyed and shirtless in the woods on his way to Four and together we made our way to an estate at the edge of eight where we met a widower living alone with his niece from Austria. Eager to pawn the girl off, he made me an offer and I was so overcome by her dowry that I agreed to wed without ever meeting her face to face. What is love in the face of that much money? It is a plan suitable for Plutarch as it places him directly in the center of attention, no matter how unlikely it might be.

 

What choice do I have but to go with it? When the king received word of my rescue and the change of my circumstances, he offered to host my wedding himself.  “Accepting a higher dowry is just good business. As is meeting the young girl from Austria that will be running district twelve at my side.” His desire to control the situation clear from his letter.

Katniss steps on my toes.

 

“Miss Everdeen, such a pleasure to finally meet at last.” It might be a death sentence but I wink at her anyway. 

 

Her eyes rake over me as her lips settle into a scowl. 

 

“Is this my future husband?” She sniffs to the overdone woman behind her. 

 

The bloody brat sure is playing this up. She flounces down the stairs to look me over, circling me like a wolf. I stand and try to supress my sigh as she bites her lip. 

 

“He isn’t much to look at is he?” 

 

“The same might be said about you, sweetheart.” I snap back. 

 

“Please, there will be plenty of time to argue after you are married.” The room collectively dips as the king enters, surrounded by his advisors. 

 

“I should thank you, your majesty for offering to host my wedding.” I say, years of practice keeps my voice steady and my hands from shaking. His dark eyes fix on Katniss and it takes everything I have not to grab her and run for the door.

 

“I should thank you for finally picking a suitable bride.” He says. “Even if she is from… Austria.” 

 

“Wasn’t your own wife from Austria?” I say and he smiles. 

 

“Indeed, she was. Not many are brave enough to mention her in my presence.” 

 

“Forgive me Sire, but it has been a long journey.” I say with a low bow. “Perhaps I should retire.”

 

“Indeed, tonight rest for tomorrow we celebrate your engagement.” 

 

Everyone bows again as he leaves the room and I am left, standing breathless in the middle of the room.

 

XX.XX

 

Just after dinner the King calls me to his quarters.

 

I am surprised by the lack of ornament in his study. The walls are a plain gray and lined with bookshelves. His desk sits in the middle of the room, facing the door but behind him is a window overlooking the sunflower fields to the south. He is leaned against his chair, dark eyes watching the distant flowers swaying in the blue of twilight, nursing a glass of whisky, ice clinking in the glass weakly.

 

From below I can hear the tinkling laughter of children in the flickering lights of a thousand candles. The cloying scent of roses claws at my senses. 

 

“I planted them for her.” His voice is so quiet I fear I have misheard and I bite my tongue to keep quiet. “My Leonie.” 

 

“They are lovely gardens, your highness. I especially like the lilacs.”

 

“Majesty.”  He corrects in a hard voice. 

 

“Your Majesty.” I correct myself with a sweeping bow. 

 

“ You’re from district twelve Peeta?”  I feel my eyebrows furrow as he stands and opens the window. I heave in a gulp of sweet summer air. 

 

“Yes Your Majesty.” I snap my eyes narrowing. “My father's’ people.”

 

“Your mother is my cousin. She had a handsome dowry, as does the lovely Miss Undersee. I understand her father was quite upset when you decided to take up with a foreigner instead of marrying his daughter like you agreed upon.” 

 

“I am sorry, Sire for any problems I may have caused.”

 

“Yes.” His eyes are studying me carefully like I am a stallion at auction. “Yes it has been quite a headache. A lot of placating a whiny noble while trying to run a country. All because you couldn’t make up your mind, young cousin.” I understand the implication in his tone. I owe the king a great debt, something he isn’t likely going to forget. 

 

Anyway I look at this, I am done for. 

 

“Marriage is forever, Your Majesty.” This makes him smile slyly.

 

“You are a smart boy Mellark, you always have been.” He comes up to me and the scent of roses is acrid on his breath. “You understand what it takes to dissolve your engagement with Miss Undersee?” 

 

“Yes, Sire.” 

 

For a long moment I am sure he is a snake about to strike. 

 

Then he flashes his teeth at me. 

 

He lifts the glass of whiskey he is holding. 

 

“Congratulations, cousin. I wish you both all the happiness in the world. I’ll trust both of you will be there for me when the crown needs you the most.” 

 

I dip my head in acknowledgement. 

 

“To good business.” I whisper back.

  
  
  
  


_ It happens quickly.  _

 

_ These things always do.  _

 

_ Katniss has her chin resting on my chest as she speaks. Her stomach growls loudly and I laugh at her. Her hair is wild around her face as she giggles at something I have said. I am still riding the high of her laugh when her eyes go wide and she freezes, staring at the treeline behind me. _

 

_ “What it is?” I ask. _

 

_ “Don’t move.” She commands and my instincts go to any number of beasts that pace the woods, wolves or bears, even a wild cat.  _

 

_ Katniss hasn’t taken a single breath.  _

 

_ “Sparrow, what is it?”  _

 

_ Her eyes snap to mine and all I can see is the panic, the fear and I no that no animal has put that there. She reaches up slowly and tilts my face toward hers, away from whatever she is watching. _

 

_ “Don’t look.” She whispers with trembling chin. “If you don’t look it isn’t real.” Her voice cracks. _

 

_ I whirl around.  _

 

_ A line of peacekeepers form a white wall behind us. There arrows aimed at me . Deep inside of me I know that this wasn’t the king. It has a certain flair that could only belong to mother.  _

 

_ “By decree of the king I order you, Peeta Mellark to stand up.” Katniss scrambles away from me, her eyes wide and dark.  _

 

_ “Its alright, Sparrow.” I say, reaching slowly for my shirt. She is dressed only in her shift and she might as well be bare in the sheer material as one of the officers grabs her by the arm and drags her up.  _

 

_ “By decree of the king or my mother?” I say with a well practiced smile. Katniss glares at me but I try to calm her nerves, I wink at her. Her scowl only deepens as two peacekeepers grab onto me.  _

 

_ “Your mother does want you home for supper, but the king doesn’t ‘ppreciate little girls poaching ‘is rabbits.” He has Katniss’s leather bag, the one she carries her game in one hand and the rabbit she shot along the way, in the other. “Course he won’t be terribly happy bout that bow neither.”  _

 

_ Her head tilts and in the evening light I catch glimpse of the vicious gleam in her gray eyes. She has been starved, beaten and used her entire life and I know she will not go easy.  _

 

_ “ Mistress Mellark didn’t say that  _ **_she_ ** _ had to come home in one piece.” One of them says.  _

 

_ Something akin to fire is stoked to life in my chest.  _

 

_ “Let her go.” I snarl as I try to wrestle my arm from his grasp. “It is me my mother wants, not her.” I manage to knock two of them to their feet. _

 

_ “We will see about that your grace.” _

 

_ She is wrenched from me and In a way we never recover from it.  _

 

_ “Peeta.” She pleads and it doesn’t matter. I fight and writhe and call after her and that doesn’t matter either. _

 

_ In the end I don’t see where they take her. I am drug back to the Mellark estates. It takes three of them but finally, I am bound and left in the foyer for my mother. She is sitting in a chair, staring out the window, watching the trees sway in the wind. Her fingers pressed against the thin skin of her cheek. She looks like a painting, hanging in a museum. _

 

_ “You always were the rebellious one. I never had to worry about Bran or Rye, but you always had that pesky little soft spot.” _

 

_ My head is hung so I don’t have to look at her. She clicks her tongue as I stare at the nicks in the wood. _

 

_ “It sure is a pity about the girl.” _

 

_ My head snaps up. _

 

_ “What did you do to her?” _

 

_ “Calm down,” She rolls her eyes as I strain against my bindings. “She isn’t dead.”  _

 

_ She looks me straight in the eyes as she says it, So I know, So I always remember the cadence of her voice and the emptiness in her eyes. “She has to learn.”  _

 

_ “Learn what mother?” _

 

_ “That you don’t take what isn’t yours.”  _

 

_ Once when I was a child, I fell down the stairs. This feels the same as that did. The breath stuck in the hollow of my chest. The sweat that breaks out on my brow. The certainty that pain is imminent. _

 

_ “Oh, my sweet Peeta. You always liked strays, so much like your father. But Son, you cannot save her from this fate. She will learn that her place is in the kitchen with the rats.” _

 

_ My hands have gone numb when they finally release me. I stumble down to the kitchen where Sae sits in the dying light of the fire, her hands pressed to her lips.  _

 

_ “You children couldn’t ‘ave listened to me.” She sobs. “Now it's my niece that pays the price, not a boy like you. You don’t ‘ave to worry about the consequences of your actions. You don’t know what it is like for her. She won’t recover from this, her reputation is ruined.” _

 

_ “Where is she?”  _

 

_ “Probably in the square where they left her.” She sniffs and I don’t wait for anymore chastising. I stumble through the meadow and up into town passed shops and into the square where she is tied to a post, still in her shift.I can see the shadow of her body sagging beneath it. The curve of her hips, her arms, thin and strong. The swell of her breasts. She hangs limply from her hands, her eyes staring off at nothing. The word is written in red above her. _

 

_ Whore.  _

 

_ Her head hangs like a broken flower in the wind. Her braid drips down her back and her hands hang loosely above her as she twists, knees limp.  _

 

_ I step forward. _

 

_ “Don’t touch her, son.” _

 

_ Its Haymitch Abernathy, the Sheriff.  _

 

_ “I-is she dead?” My voice is small, childlike. _

 

_ “No, son.” His voice is almost fatherly.  _

 

_ “Give me a knife.” I snarl. _

 

_ “Boy this is what your mother wants. You touch her it's confirmed she is a whore- your whore.” _

 

_ “Please?” My voice cracks . “Give me a damn knife.”  _

 

_ He presses his lips into a line but hands me his knife.  _

 

_ She starts to stir when I begin sawing the rope.Her eyes flutter and tears trace there way lazily down toward her chin. Her wrists are raw and her face is black and blue. I gather her like she is made of lace, carrying her down the wooden steps and toward her home in the seam.  Her eyes finally find my face, wide and dark and sad. I am looking at her, bathed in the empty afternoon light when he says it. His voice is far away. She is the only thing that matters. _

 

_ “Your a fool boy.” Haymitch says as I push passed him. For a moment I am stilled by his words but then Katniss stirs in my arms and I have no choice but to keep going.  _

 

_ I ignore him.  _

 

_ I wish I didn’t. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Credit.
> 
> Solider, Poet, King. - The Oh Hello's


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment the palace comes into view in the distance I am struck dumb by the way it glitters in the sun. The carriage clambers up the long road through the gardens of lilacs and sunflowers, fountains sparkling in fields of green grass. Children run alongside of the road, trying to catch a glimpse of me as our carriage trots passed them. I am too busy looking up at the trees overhanging the road, the birds with exotic plumage that flutter between the boughs. Part of me wants to jump out and join them.

_ I watch him in the dim indigo light of dawn. He paces back and forth, grinding his teeth together. I slide my eyes shut and listen to the fire dying in the hearth, Prim’s goat that bleats outside and the soft breathing of my mother and sister from across the room and Peeta is here too, in the soft thunk of his boots against the ground. _

 

_ “You’ve probably worn a ditch into the ground by now.” I whisper, surprised at the roughness of my voice. When he doesn’t answer me I am forced to open my eyes. His eyes are wide as they lock in on me. I fear I must look worse than I feel because his skin goes pale and slumps his shoulders. _

 

_ I decide defeated doesn’t look good on Peeta Mellark.  _

 

_ “Katniss.”  _

 

_ “That is my name.” I whisper, trying to swallow the hurt and doubt and it goes down just like rocks, lodging in my throat.  _

 

_ In an instant his eyes meet mine and all pretense melts away. My eyes shift away from his and he is stumbling toward me.  _

 

_ “Did they- Did-” _

 

_ “No, they didn’t ruin me if that was what you were asking.” I can’t help the way the words spill like venom from me.  _

 

_ No, they just beat me. Spewed hateful words about my heritage. They spit on me and cursed my name, cursed Peeta’s, his families.  _

 

_ “Katniss?” _

 

_ “I will be alright with time.” I whisper. It isn’t a lie. I have no other choice.  _

 

_ “Your face-” He whispers and his fingers come up to hover over my swollen cheekbone.  _

 

_ I flinch and he curls his hand away from me.  _

 

_ “This is my fault.” He whispers. I stare at the cooling embers and my traitorous heart whispers that he is right. It is his fault. It is also my fault. We knew the price we would have to pay eventually.  _

 

_ “We always knew it would end like this.” I mumble into my pillow because I can’t stand to look at him. _

 

_ “Katniss, you can’t mean that.”  _

 

_ “Peeta look around you.” I whisper. “My mother was from a family like yours and look at her now. Is this how you want to end up? Destitute and heartsick?”  _

 

_ “You are worth it.”  _

 

_ It is in this instant that I know for sure he will never let me go. I have to be the one to give the fatal blow.  _

 

_ As always. _

 

_ XX.XX _

 

The second the water hits my skin I am hissing. 

 

“The water would have been warm if you showed up on time.” Effie grumbles at me. I think I hear Plutarch laugh from behind the screen. 

 

“I swear dear, would it have killed you to get even a half an hour of beauty sleep. I don’t know how I am going to cover these circles under your eyes!” 

 

I don’t respond I just stand there stark naked and shaking, hoping that she will take pity on me and let me return to my cot by the fire. 

 

Effie is the woman Plutarch hired to teach me manners, etiquette and beautify me. Basically her job is to strip me bare of my clothes and turn me into a lady. An impossible task if you asked her. She circles me, clucking like a prize hen. 

 

She soaps me up and splashes more cold water and then I am led to a room and muscled onto a table where I am plucked and prodded and foul smelling lotions are rubbed into my skin and by the end of the day I am raw and sore, hungry and sour as curdled milk. 

 

“Lets see you then.” Effie says, dragging me by the hand into a room with a wall mirror. I stare at myself for a long time. 

 

The dress is a blue nearly dark as midnight, made of soft silk. Silver lace accent the sleeves and hem. My eyes have been rimmed in charcoal and my hair has been knotted up away from my face. 

 

I don’t look dirty or poor or desperate for the first time in my life. I see the girl in the mirror cock her head slightly to the side and a hand raise to touch the smooth skin of her cheek. 

 

“Well, what do you think?” Effie trills excitedly. 

 

I smile wickedly.

 

“I am just wondering where I will put my knife?” 

 

XX.XX

  
  


Relief floods me at the sight of Haymitch, as battered as he maybe. He is slumped in a chair in a corner and the second I am through the door I race to him, landing on my knees in front of him. 

 

“Haymitch?” I whisper as his eyes open.

 

“Katniss- your sister-”

 

His face is black and blue and reminds me why I trust him with my sisters life. 

 

“Shhh.” I whisper. “She is alive.” 

 

His hand reaches down as he runs his fingers through my hair so quickly I fear I imagined it. 

 

“I tried.” He rasps. “I tried to take care of you girls when your mother died..” 

 

“I know.” It is all I can say.  

 

“Your mother-”

 

“Shush now.” I say, motioning toward my guard at the edge of the room, watching me with dark eyes. 

 

He swallows whatever he was going to say but sits up. “I am here to teach you about the king’s palace.” 

 

“How do you know about the king’s palace.” I snort. 

 

“You know I didn’t always used to be a drunken ex sheriff at the edge of a nowhere district.” 

 

I roll my eyes. 

 

“You are a strangely dislikable person.” He grumbles. “Can I give you some advice?” 

 

I cross my arms over my chest. “You are going to give it to me anyway.” 

 

“Listen to every bleeding word that comes out of my mouth and heed it. You are not dealing with Mrs. Mellark anymore. This is the king, he holds everyone’s life in the palm of his hand. He could have the district burned to the ground with a word. You cannot afford any mistakes.” 

 

“Any other advice.” I sneer, glaring at the fire.

 

“Stay alive.” He whispers.

  
  


XX.XX

 

“Where is Peeta?” I ask. 

 

In the dark I feel safe asking. As if anyone would actual tell me. 

 

“He is safe.” The man says. It’s hard to believe when he is dressed in his uniform, the crest of Heavensbee enblazened across his chest in a deep purple. 

 

I feel my knees curl into my chest as I stare out of the window up at the sky. The stars sprayed across the inky dark night like pinholes in velvet. 

 

I slump against the wall. 

 

I will myself not to cry. 

 

“Not to fret, miss.” The man says. “In just a few days time you’ll be away from this place.” 

 

I force myself to smile at him as I lay down in the silver moonlight that spills through the window. I imagine Peeta looking up at the same moon, somewhere distant and shut my eyes and dip into oblivion. 

 

XX.XX

 

_ It’s cold but I tell Peeta I need air. It isn’t entirely a lie. My mother has had me cooped up in bed for days and I have humored her but soon the coin will run out and I’ll need to find a job if we want to keep eating through the winter.  _

 

_ Peeta walks with me at the edge of the meadow, boots squelching in the mud as our hands cling together with a desperation that we don’t dare voice.  _

 

_ It has been weeks since his mother had him drug off and we have danced around the horrible truth for weeks, refusing to speak of it. He brings us food sometimes, when he can and news from town, where I don’t dare step foot.  _

 

_ Peeta, the king’s cousin is untouchable. I am another story.  _

 

_ “I heard the tailor might be in need of a seamstress,” Peeta says to himself. “I could enquire about the pay.”  _

 

_ “It won’t be enough.” I grumble. “Prim is growing like a weed and my mother needs more healing supplies and lady’s pen needs mending.” The list goes on and on.  _

 

_ “We’ll manage.” Peeta says. Something in me snaps at the sound of his voice. The way he speaks of us. A unit with a future together. The restless thing that took root in me the night he brought me back from the square flares to life.  _

 

_ “No Peeta, I will manage.” I snap.  _

 

_ “Katniss, you cannot possibly think I am going to let you deal with this on your own.” _

 

_ “I can take care of myself.” I snarl.  _

 

_ “You shouldn’t have to.”  _

 

_ “But I do.” I whisper. He gives me this look, wounded and a little perplexed, but just as quickly as it is there it is gone again.  _

 

_ “Katniss-”  _

 

_ “No, Peeta, you’re mother...”  _

 

_ His hands wrap around my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbone.  _

 

_ “What of her?” He growls playfully, backing me against the spindly trunk of a birch tree, his nose brushing against mine, his lips curving upward as I tilt my chin up so he can press his lips against the base of my throat.  _

 

_ “Peeta-” _

 

_ “You think too much, love.” He whispers against my neck. “Has anyone ever told you that?”  _

 

_ “Yes, you.” I hiss as his teeth graze the delicate skin at my collarbone. “Many times.” He chuckles at this.  _

 

_ I stumble backward, shoving on Peeta’s solid chest.  _

 

_ “Peeta, you’re mother is so angry. What happens when she finds out that you’ve been sneaking down here?”  _

 

_ “Katniss let me deal with my mother.” He says, exasperated.  _

 

_ “I thought we were a team.” I sneer back at him.  _

 

_ “We are! But you are using my mother as an excuse to push me away and Katniss, I promise you, I do not fear her.” He shakes his head, curls bouncing and smiles at me.  _

 

_ “What is it you fear then?” I spit. “Is it the empty belly you will have when she disowns you? Or the illness from the chill in the air? Or the gossip and ridicule that you will face?” I’m nearly yelling now, my chin quivering no matter what I do.  _

 

_ “Oh Sparrow, I fear losing you. As long as you are here. I will be alright.”  _

  
  


XX.XX

 

Haymitch eyes me like I am a lamb chop on a plate. 

 

“Curtsy.” He demands and I suck in a deep breath. 

 

I can almost hear Peeta cackling behind me. I fan out my skirt and give the best dip I can muster, with a tilt of my head.

 

“Dreadful.” Haymitch spits. 

 

I hear Effie’s quill scratching against paper as she makes notes. 

 

“Now sit.” 

 

I look back at the chair behind me and smile triumphantly. Really, I have been sitting my whole life. Finally, a simple request. I flounce over to the chair and sit with a flourish. 

 

Haymitch shares a fretful look with Effie. 

 

“It’ll take some practice.” Effie says, forcing a smile in my direction. 

 

“Now say something.” Haymitch says, pinch the bridge of his nose like he is warding off a headache. 

 

“You say something!” I snap. 

 

“Effie write it down.” 

 

I feel my lip curl back as I lean back petulantly. 

 

“Listen, Sweetheart. I have exactly three days to turn you into a noble, a lady by birthright. You barely pass for a stable hand and have about as much charm as a dead slug.” I ignore the sting of his words. “Now stand up and try sitting again and when you do, remember that your sisters life depends on this.” 

 

For once I can’t argue with him. 

 

XX.XX

  
  


_ I step lightly on the branch, testing my weight. The leaves rustle gently around me, shadows dancing in the sunshine. A flock of Mockingjays takes flight from a nearby tree. I turn my gaze downward, to where Peeta sits with his back leaned against the base of the tree, his hands stained black with charcoal as he sketches in an old leather bound book. I take another tentative step, confident that he doesn’t know that I am standing directly above him.  _

 

_ I suck in a lungful of early autumn air and spread my arms out. I don’t jump so much as let myself fall. My stomach swoops as I hang suspended for a moment in the air. My head tilts so I can feel the warmth of the sun on my face. I wonder if this is how the mockingjays feel when they fly. I have a sudden sensation, like a laugh, bubbling in my chest but before it is ripped from me I hit the ground hard, rolling up onto the balls of my feet.  _

 

_ “I heard you from a mile away, Sparrow.”  _

 

_ “You didn’t.” I growl as he grins at me.  _

 

_ “I hate to be the one to tell you but I think you are losing your touch.” He flips over the book to show me the sketch. It's me, standing among the leaves, looking down with a sly grin on my face. I huff indignantly and flounce over, falling into the grass next to him.  _

 

_ He leans over and presses a kiss into my cheek, his hand brushing my chin.  _

 

_ “Be careful,” I say, my eyes flickering to the horizon where I can just make out the thatched houses at the edge of town.  _

 

_ “No one can see us.” He says softly, tilting my face so he press his lips against mine. I melt at the feeling of him against me, warm and solid as ever. My hand reaches up and rests against his chest, just above his heart. It beats rhythmic and slow and I marvel at how even this part of him is steady as a war drum.  _

 

_ His hands run down my neck to my shoulders sending goosebumps skittering down my arms. I shiver and this makes him smile against my lips.  _

 

_ “Peeta,” I whisper, my voice shaky and I curse how he is able to render me a puddle with just a brush of his hands.  _

 

_ “Sparrow?”  _

 

_ “We need to stop.” I say but even as I say it I am pulling him to me, pressing my lips to the tender skin where his heartbeat pulses. I taste it with my tongue. He inhales raggedly and pulls me back to study my face.  _

 

_ “My mother can not find us here.” His voice is reassuring, so is his smile, and the palm of his hand as it rests on my cheek, brushing my cheekbone. “These woods are ours, little sparrow. If she finds us we will just fly away.”  _

 

_ I nod but my stomach sinks to my shoes. _

 

_ “Now,” His arm wraps around my waist as he lifts me up against him. “No more talk of my mother.”  _

 

_ XX.XX _

  
  


I stand in front of the warn down mirror, staring at the wide eyed girl I have become. I look like a new person entirely in my gown made of cream colored silk, pale pink sash and pristine gloves. I fear the girl that traipsed through the woods happily is long gone, a distant memory. 

 

“Are you ready, miss?” The driver asks and I nod. Effie gives me a small smile and tells me she will see me soon. I offer her what little smile I can and I step into the summer sun. Haymitch is waiting on the porch, sitting in the shade, a bottle between his knees. 

 

“Look at you,” He says, leaning back to appraise me, I shrink a little under his glare. “You look like a lady.” 

 

“Yes,” I sneer unhappily. “And you look like a drunk.” 

 

“Watch that lip, Mistress.” He says wryly. 

 

“Well,” I hold my arms out around me. “Any last advice?” 

 

He takes a long drink from his bottle and unceremoniously burps.

 

“If you need a topic of conversation just talk about the gardens, the women of court are quite fond of them.” He narrows his eyes at me. 

 

“That’s it?” I sneer. 

 

“Stay alive.” He reminds me. I take a deep breath and nod. 

 

“There’s a girl.” 

 

“Haymitch-” I stammer suddenly. 

 

“I will do my best to find her.” He whispers. 

 

“Time to go, Mistress.” The driver chimes, holding out his hand to me. I step up into the carriage and I don’t dare look behind me. 

 

XX.XX

 

The moment the palace comes into view in the distance I am struck dumb by the way it glitters in the sun. The carriage clambers up the long road through the gardens of lilacs and sunflowers, fountains sparkling in fields of green grass. Children run alongside of the road, trying to catch a glimpse of me as our carriage trots passed them. I am too busy looking up at the trees overhanging the road, the birds with exotic plumage that flutter between the boughs. Part of me wants to jump out and join them. 

 

It is nearing dusk by the time we cross under the golden trellis that leads into the courtyard. The driver opens the door and helps me down. There are clumps of women gathering to gawk at me and I can’t stop the scowl that roots itself onto my face. 

 

I look around for familiar blonde curls and sparking blue eyes. 

 

“He isn’t here,” A voice whispers to my left. I nearly jump out of my skin as Plutarch laughs at me. Rue is at his side and I let out a small, choked sound at the sight of her in her pale gold gown. “But do not fret your grace, he will be here in two days time.” His voice is quiet, just for me. Then he grins, bowing low in a practiced sweeping motion. 

 

“Welcome, Your Grace.” He booms.

 

That is going to take some getting used to. 

 

I plaster a smile onto my face and bite my tongue hard to keep from laughing. I sweep my eyes over the people gathered around, looking at me like I am an animal in a trap and maybe in a way I am. I immediately catch sight of a pale woman standing in the shade of the large stone building. She is dressed in a pale blue gown that is nowhere as austinatious as the other woman. Her silvery hair is pulled up into an elegant twist and her lips are pressed into a firm line as her eyes sweep over me, before she catches me staring. Then she smiles, just faintly. 

“Thank you, Master Plutarch.” I say in a voice that shakes, only slightly. “Thank you so much for the opportunity to spend time in such regal company.” I gush as I keep a look out for the king, a man I have only seen once, long ago, when he came to twelve to visit Peeta’s mother. He must be old as dirt now because he was ancient then, white hair and stooped. “I was hoping to thank the king for his hospitality.” 

 

“All in due time, your grace.” Plutarch chirps, taking my arm and leading me into the shade of the castle. “He is a very busy man.”

 

XX.XX

  
  


_ “Um, Katniss there is someone here to see you.” Prim says, her voice hesitant. I drop the shirt I am washing back into the sudsy water and I dry my hands on my apron.  _

 

_ “Well, Prim, spit it out. Who is it?” I grab her shoulders and pull her along with me, smiling like an idiot. I had spent the morning with Peeta out in the woods, hidden in a outcropping of trees and blackberry bushes. These days, those stolen moments leave me breathless and smiling like an idiot till dinner. They are few and far between lately but they make the long days between seeing his smile a little easier to bare.  _

 

_ “It’s the guard.” Prim whispers, just as I stop dead in the front yard, smile shattering in the grass at my feet. A carriage is sitting in the dusty road. People have stopped to stare at it.  _

 

_ “Prim go inside.” I demand.  _

 

_ “But-”  _

 

_ “Go see to Mother.” I demand, fear snaking through my stomach.  _

 

_ “But-” _

 

_ “Do not argue with me.” I whisper, deathly quiet. She doesn’t say anything else, she just turns and stomps inside.  _

 

_ “Sir, I think you have the wrong house.” I squeak, my mouth bone dry.  _

 

_ “Katniss, I have an order to summon you to the Mellarks home.” I remember his voice. It’s the stable boy from the day Peeta drank too much wine, he is taller now and his dark hair is hidden under a cap. “Please.” He adds quietly and I nod. This is it. I think. I’m a goner for sure. I climb in and sit. I’ve never been in a carriage before, every inch of the inside is covered in velvet, I brush my fingers over the rich blue fabric.  _

 

_ The woods flash around me in a ashy blur of greens and browns as I beg the world to stop spinning, even for just a moment.  _

 

_ She knows.  _

 

_ I’ll be whipped or worse arrested for treason to the crown. There are any number of crimes she could accuse me of. My stomach lurches, it might be my thoughts, it might be the speed of the carriage.  _

 

_ I screw my eyes shut.  _

 

_ “Here we are Miss,” The stable boy says. He holds his hand out to me and helps me out of the carriage. “She is waiting for in the study.”  _

 

_ “Thank you.” I mumble and I step toward my fate like I am accepting my death. I hope Peeta takes care of Prim. It’s the only thing I’ll regret. She’ll starve without me. _

 

_ I step into the cold house. No one is around. There aren’t any servants bustling to get lunch served or visiting children playing on the staircase. I pull my worn out cloak around myself tighter and step toward the study.  _

 

_ “Miss Everdeen?” Her voice is even and has a rigidness about it. I step into the room. She is standing, facing the window, staring out over the sprawling green lawn toward the edge of the forest, rich and lush beyond the fence.  _

 

_ “Yes Ma’am.” I whisper, she turns and I dip my head toward her. She scoffs at my formality.  _

 

_ “Please,” She snarls. “You’ve had my son betwixt your thighs I think we can skip the ma’am don’t you.”  _

 

_ I scowl at her, my lip curling in disgust.  _

 

_ “There, at least that is honest.”  _

 

_ “What do you want then?”  _

 

_ She laughs, it curls around me like smoke. She sits in a chair and eyes me like I am a piece of meat or a pawn in a game of chess.  _

 

_ “Turn around.” She says and with nothing to defend myself I do as I am asked. I stop and fix her with a stony stare. “I see why my son likes you.” She hums.  _

 

_ “What do you want with me?” I snap.  _

 

_ “I have warned him, you know.” She whispers. “About his place, and yours of course. He is destined to rule over this village, this land will be his responsibility. His job is to find a woman with a dowry, a girl that can help reinforce his rule. Do you understand?” I nod weakly, my stomach twisting painfully.  _

 

_ “I don’t think you do.” She growls at me. “See, my son cannot find a suitable wife when he is out in the woods laying with a servant girl.” Her voice slices through the otherwise quiet house. “I will not have this family brought down by the likes of you.” Her lips curl in disgust. “Now leave my son, otherwise your back will bleed. Do you hear me?”  _

 

_ I feel my chin notch upward. How dare she tell me how to feel about her son.  _

 

_ “Perhaps it will not be you that gets caught in the end. Perhaps it will be your sister, your mother.”  _

 

_ “Do-I- You cannot-” _

 

_ “I can, young one and I will-” She sneers. “Just remember that you hold your own fate in your hands.” She waves her hand at me, almost lazily. “Now, get out of my sight.”  _

 

_ I stumble numbly out the door. The carriage is gone, I am left to walk home alone with my thoughts.  _

 

_ I had told him we would end in misery. It was something completely different when it was my own misery. But Prims? I couldn’t abide it. I would die first.  _

 

_ “There you are!” He calls from atop a horse. I am at the edge of his family's land, standing in my old,worn out dress, the hem caked in mud and coal dust. He smiles at me, it’s like seeing the sun for the first time. _

 

_ “Miss Everdeen,” He says, he must see the fear choking me because it drops from his face immediately. “What’s wrong?” The horse beneath him whinnies, eager to keep running.  _

 

_ “I’m- I’m fine.” I say flatly.  _

 

_ “Yes and pigs can fly.” He snorts.  _

 

_ “I must go,” I lie. “My sister needs help with dinner and I still have washing.” I mumble. His hand shoots out and grabs my arm as I try to pass him.  _

 

_ “Did she talk to you?” His eyes narrow at me suspiciously.  _

 

_ “Yes.” My voice is weak and empty. I hate it. Peeta runs his finger across my chin and realize it quivers. I rip away from him.  _

 

_ “What did she say to you?”  _

 

_ “Nothing we didn’t already know.” I snap, grinding my molars. _

 

_ “Katniss, you cannot listen to h-” _

 

_ “Do not come to me anymore.” I beg. “Stay away.” My voice is hard. Something inside of me is pulled taut I fear I will break under my own words.  _

 

_ “Sparrow-”  _

 

_ “Do you hear my words, Peeta Mellark?” I feel my lips peel away from my teeth.  _

 

_ “You cannot-” _

 

_ “Listen to me.” I plead. He searches my eyes from atop his horse. He is watching me quiet for a long time. His blue eyes search my face. Whatever he is looking for he does not find it. Or maybe he does and that is what breaks him.  _

 

_ “If that is what you want.” He mumbles quietly.  _

 

_ “It is.” I whisper back.  _

 

_ “ Goodbye then, Miss Everdeen.” He flicks the reigns and the horse lurches forward so quickly I stumble back. That thing deep inside me snaps and salt water floods my eyes. I barely make it to the nearest tree, I climb until I can’t and then I bury my face into my hands and sob.  _

 

_ XX.XX _

  
  


I stare in at the group of women apprehensively. They sit on couches with tea, prattling on airly. I wipe my hands on the fabric of my dress and lick my lips

 

“They’re like a pack of wolves.” A voice, soft and musical comes from behind me. “You’re right to be apprehensive.” 

 

“I’m not- I’m not apprehensive.” I mumble, stealing a sideways glance at the woman that sidles up to me. It is the woman from the courtyard, the pale beauty in blue herself.

 

“It’s perfectly alright.” She says with a soft smile. “The only real reason they speak to me is because they are frightened of me.” She shrugs her shoulders. “They’re scared of you too.” 

 

Scared of me? Maybe with my bow but they have no reason to be scared of me here, wrapped in ribbons, I am about as deadly as a daffodil. I snort. 

 

“They are.” She insists with a soft smile. “Outsiders don’t come here very often, especially beautiful women who swoop young, handsome suitors out from under them.” She raises a smooth eyebrow in my direction. 

 

“I didn’t mean- I just- have you seen that sunflower garden?” I mumble weakly. She laughs and it isn’t the demur giggles I hear from the woman in the corner. 

 

“What is your name?” 

 

“Kat- Lady Katniss Everdeen, from Austria.” I stumble over my words and dip my head in her direction. “Your name, my lady?” I inquire. 

 

“Lady Margaret Undersee, District One.” She smiles wryly. “But you can call me Madge.”

 

“Oh!” I step backward.

 

“Yes, I am the woman previously engaged to Master Mellark.” 

 

“I’m- I- um-”

 

“No matter,” She says with a shrug. “Engagements break.” She narrows her eyes slyly. “Besides he wasn’t my type.” She loops her arm in mine and drags me toward the crowd of women. “They’re insufferable,” She whispers. “But they have excellent taste in tea sandwiches.” 

 

_ XX.XX _

 

I stare at the feather bed in front of me. Pale gold covers and silken sheets. I am reminded of the bed Peeta had at home, back in twelve and I sit on the edge carefully, trying not to ruffle anything. I smooth down my nightgown around my legs and remember what it was like laying with Peeta on that cot back in four, his steady arms wrapped around me, the sound of the distant ocean. 

 

“Oh, oh my dear girl.” A voice says from behind me. I am too far gone now to stop, the tears refuse to slow as I sob openly. I miss my home, my sister, Peeta, even rusty old Haymitch. I want my mother to appear from the kitchen and kiss my forehead. I suck in a stilted breath and then someone has me pressed into their heavily perfumed chest. 

 

“It is alright, child.” Effie whispers, rocking me gently like I am a babe. I do not have the strength to push her away. She coos at me as I sob into her nightgown. 

 

How did I get here? 

 

Just a few weeks ago I was the Mockingjay. I stole from the royals but I carefully left them alive. In just weeks I have become a murderer with her monsterous eyes set on the most powerful person in the country. All to save my waif of a sister. Is it right? To trade her life for another? Even if the man is evil?

 

I am shaking. I am furious. I ball my fists and sob uselessly. Angry. Helpless. 

 

“No need to cry, your beau will be here in just a day and they will have a party, just for you. I made you a dress- it’s red.” She whispers in a conspiriting way. It knocks me out of whatever angry trance I have been in. Slowly I straighten, wipe my eyes and thank Effie profusely. 

 

“I’m okay.” I tell her. 

 

She smiles.

 

I cannot bring myself to smile back.

 

XX.XX

 

Peeta does arrive. Late, as usual. 

 

He looks well enough and I try to supress my smile as he slips through the door. Finnick catches my eye and winks deftly. The story Plutarch has concocted swirls around in my head. Then he is looking at me, smiling like the sun. I am overcome by the sudden urge to walk straight over and slap him. 

 

He hasn’t had to endure weeks of plucking and poking and prodding, lessons in how to sit and stand and speak. How dare he look at me like I am the same dull girl from a dull district. 

 

“Is this my future husband?” I ask Effie and the smile slides from his face. Good. I think. “He isn’t much to look at is he?” I sniff. Effie doesn’t look amused by my attitude. 

 

“The same might be said about you, _ Sweetheart _ .” Peeta oozes. It takes everything in me not to race down the staircase and crush his lips against mine.

 

“Please, there will be plenty to argue about once you are married.” The king says as he enters the rooms, everyone bows low. I stare for a second before I follow suit. 

 

Peeta and the king speak with ease. My heart flutters against my ribcage, threatening to split me open. There he is, right in front of me. 

 

The man that murdered my father. 

 

I should hate him. I should want him dead and I do, but he is so much smaller in stature than I expected. He looks so surprisingly human that it takes me by surprise. How many nights had I imagined a monster with dripping, gleaming fangs and claws. 

 

I suck in a breath. 

 

How do you kill a man? 

 

You would think I would know by now.

 

XX.XX

 

Peeta finds me in the garden. 

 

There are wooden boxes stacked on top of each other. Each one holds a milky white dove. They coo and flutter and strain against the box.

 

“They’re for our dinner tonight.” Peeta whispers. I whirl around and find him standing in the gravel walkway, not a speck of dust on his boots. His eyes the same color as the sky, especially against the deep evergreen of the hedges. It is almost too much seeing him here, whole and alive, next to me. “The king isn’t to be out done.” He whispers, eying the birds sadly. 

 

“It’s cruel.” I whisper. “Leaving them locked up as they are.” I poke my finger against one cage. 

 

“Yes, but it isn’t forever.” He whispers. When I finally gather the courage to look at him his eyes are deep and fathomless. 

 

I crumble at the sight. 

 

“I’ve missed you.” I whisper. 

 

“I’ve missed you too, little Sparrow.”

 

XX.XX

 

_ I catch sight of him at the next festival. He is laughing with Delly Cartwright. I almost give in right there, but I grit my teeth and clutch my sisters hand.  _

 

_ “Isn’t that Peeta?” My sister says, waving over her head.  _

 

_ “Yes.” I hiss, pulling her along with me. “Don’t make any fuss!”  _

 

_ “Why?” She looks down her nose at me curiously.  _

 

_ “Because, it doesn’t make this any easier.” I grumble.  _

 

_ She rolls her eyes in my direction. “Mrs Mellark is full of bluster, she’ll not do anything to me.” _

 

_ “You sound like Peeta.” _

 

_ “At least one of you has some sense.” She mumbles under her breath. I smack at her arm as she runs off to meet one of her friends toward the middle of the square. I hang back as a few people nearest me snicker.  _

 

_ I’ve been labeled the Mellark whore and twelve sure does love to gossip. I keep my cheek tilted up and try not to look to my left where I feel Peeta’s eyes burning a hole in me.  _

 

_ Once, my traitorous eyes meet his and I see a spark flash into him. My eyebrows dip together and my lips curl into a frown. He wouldn’t dare speak to me in such a public manner after all that has happened, but I see the spark die and my heart shatters at the sight.  _

 

_ I mutter an apology in my head and I slip into the crowd to find Prim, but not before my eyes lock with a different Mellark, her cold blue eyes narrowing at me. I’ve kept to myself. I think. Just let me be.  _

 

_ XX.XX _

 

Effie has prodded me into a dark dress that laces up the back with pale pink ribbon. The bodice is so tight I fear my ribs will snap like twigs. 

 

“Effie, I can’t breathe!” I huff, pressing my hand to my abdomen. 

 

“You aren’t supposed to be able to.” She says, tightening the ribbon laces. 

 

“Right, well-” 

 

“You must suffer to be beautiful.” She says, placing her hands on my hips and smiling at me in the mirror. 

 

“You’re insane.” I mutter. 

 

“You will thank me when your Peeta sees you.” She says, kissing my cheek with her sticky lips. “You are radiant.” 

 

Now that I stand here on the veranda, surrounded by thousands of lights glittering in the purple dusk I fear she is right. Peeta hasn’t seen me yet so I hover over the food table,eying the roasted lamb cooked with rosemary and garlic and a hunk of ham larger than my head. There are golden rolls with butter and fresh sugared berries and cream,  crystal pitchers of lemonade and tureens spilling with fruit. Saliva fills my mouth and so does horror. I am remembering nights huddled by the fire with my sister, hollowed cold and tired. 

 

I look up at the darkening sky. Lights spill from the trees and hang over the long buffet table. Somewhere distantly, a lute plays. 

 

“Well, look at you.” Finnick says brightly. “A shiny new penny.” 

 

“Oh Finnick,” I whisper, relief flooding me. “I’ve missed you.” His eyes dart around then he bows low. 

 

“Wait until my master sees you.” He whispers. 

 

“Right,” I say. “Thank you, Finnick.” 

 

“Yes, our master will be pleased.” Johanna grumbles as she passes us by, dressed in a pale lilac frock.

 

“Are you wearing a dress?” I laugh.

 

“I can still gut you.” She whispers, smiling wickedly. 

 

Children laugh and dart between the puddles of adults that converse. I am left, floundering at the outskirts. Madge catches my eye but she is talking with a young woman I don’t know so I hang back, grabbing a glass of wine from the table.

 

A hand runs across my skirt, fingers bunching the silk and letting go so quickly I think I may have imagined in. 

 

“Look at you,” Peeta growls in my ear. “You look beautiful.” His breath fans the shell of my ear. 

 

“Yes,” I mutter, taking a long swig of my wine. “And I look nothing like myself.” 

 

“Well, I daresay I do prefer the pants.” He moves away from me and I immediately miss his warmth. “This will have to do.” He says with a shrug. 

 

“Your cheeky,” I reply smartly. 

 

“Quite.” He whispers. A few girls have caught my eye. They cackle behind their hands, eyes flitting to Peeta and myself only to dart away. I feel that anger rising in me again. How dare they smirk at me? Well fed housecats smugly teasing the scrawny stray. I have half a mind to go over there and-

 

Peeta downs the last dregs of wine in his cup and drops his glass on the table.

 

“Come this way,” He whispers, his hand taking mine and leading me away. 

 

“But the food-” 

 

“It will be there when we return. You must see the gardens at this time. They’re lovely.” 

 

He leads me deep into the bowels of the sunflowers where I stumble, shaking but blessedly hidden.

 

“Are you alright?” He asks. 

 

I can only nod mutely. 

 

“Do not lie to me, Sparrow, you are shaking like a leaf.”

 

“How am I supposed to do this?” I blurt. “I am nothing like these people.” 

 

Peeta grasps my head between his solid hands. 

 

“Sparrow, we will get through this- together.” 

 

“Together.” I echo.

 

“Yes, as we are meant to be.” 

 

“Peeta?” His eyes meet mine, sunny and warm. A thousand days flood me. I feel the dread creeping up on me. Or maybe it is the wine. 

 

“Yes, love?” He swipes his thumb down my face gently. 

 

“I am so sorry.” I whisper. 

 

“Whatever for?” 

 

I have never outwardly said it. Never mentioned that day directly but suddenly it is all I can think about. Him hanging limply from the post, his back a mess of crimson and hanging skin. His wrenching cries through the empty square. 

 

I touch my hand to his chest and will him to just know. 

 

“For so much.” I whisper. “But mostly, for not stopping them when- when-.” 

 

“It’s over now.” Peeta whispers. 

 

But it has never really ended for me. I still see it in my sleep sometimes. I shake my head and nearly crumble right here. He catches me, pulling me to him and rocking me like Effie did, only I actually feel the comfort she couldn’t convey. 

 

“We will do this together.” He says firmly. 

 

“What if I cannot do it?” I stammer. “What if I fail? We both will hang and it will be my fault-” I am desperate for air, my chest heaving. 

 

“Oh, Sparrow, then we will do what you do best.” 

 

“What is that?” I whisper miserably. 

 

“We will simply do what sparrows do and fly away.”

  
  


XX.XX

 

_ In the end it doesn’t matter that I stop talking to Peeta. I realize too late that she never was going to leave me in peace. I am just slipping back under the fence when the peacekeepers descend on me like a pack of wolves. I have more than enough bounty from the woods to pin the charge of poaching on me. They lock me in a cage at the sheriff's. Haymitch Abernathy. He was a friend of my fathers and has dutifully ignored my hunting habits for the past five years. He can’t help me as they toss me in a cage made of iron bars. The peacekeepers sneer insults at me but don’t dare touch me. They walk over and talk to Haymitch in hushed tones.  _

 

_ Haymitch eyes me sadly but keeps speaking to the men in a low voice. I only catches snippets and words. _

 

_ I think I hear the word execute and I resign myself to sitting on the floor and staring at a point on the wall, wondering idly if Prim will be okay. I tell myself my little sister will be fine, Peeta will make sure she doesn't starve. My eyes burn but tears don't come. _

 

_ Finally the door shuts and Haymitch comes over to glare at me through the bars. _

 

_ “They could kill you for this.” He says flatly. “There would be nothing I could do.” _

 

_ “I know.” I say. _

 

_ “ Getting involved with Peeta Mellark?What were you thinking?” _

 

_ I sniff and run my hands down my dress stretching out my stiff legs underneath me. Haymitch glares, waiting for an answer. _

 

_ “I wasn't, obviously.” I finally snarl. _

 

_ “You were nothing to him.” Haymitch says. “He has left you to take the fall for this.” _

 

_ The quiet. _

 

_ I remember swimming in the river with my father. The stillness underneath the water as I swam. The utter silence. _

 

_ This is what I feel like on the inside. _

 

_ Peeta would never leave me. _

 

_ Never. _

 

_ I crack a sad smile at Haymitch. _

 

_ “I know.” _

 

 _He leaves me._ _Everything grows dark as I sit as still as I can. He'll come for me, I think, a foolish little hope._

 

_ But by the time morning rolls around he still hasn't come and I am suddenly not as sure as I once was. _

 

_ “I talked to William Mellark.” _

 

_ Haymitch says as he tosses me an apple. _

 

_ “And what did Master Mellark tell you?” My voice is flat as I stare at the apple. _

 

_ “He isn't going to execute you.” _

 

_ I laugh bitterly. _

 

_ “What is it then?” _

 

_ There is no way they will let this go. Mrs Mellark would never allow that. She wants me gone, away from her son. Haymitch somehow looks contrite, I didn't even think that was possible. _

 

_ “Thirty lashes in the square.” _

 

_ I feel faint. _

 

_ “No.” _

 

_ In the square. _

 

_ Prim will be forced to watch. _

 

_ “No. NO!” I am shaking my head at him desperately. “No, Please, Haymitch, my sister.” _

 

_ “I know.” He says. _

 

_ I slump against the wall but hold strong and I don't cry. _

 

_ Even when they come to me at midday. They drag my limp body through the square as people stare openly. I can’t bring myself to lift my eyes up.  _

 

_ The square is already full and distantly I can hear my sisters wailing but it sounds muffled, like my body has been stuffed with cotton as they drag me limply through the crowd. _

 

_ The second the whipping post comes into view I am fighting against the arms that hold me as the crowd watches in stoic silence. _

  
  


_ This is how they watched my father die. Silent, as decent people are. _

 

_ “Stop!” His voice echoes through the square and lands sharply in my chest. My eyes fly upward. _

 

_ He looks so beautiful. _

 

_ On horseback in the blinding light he looks as golden as the sunlight itself. I have never seen him look so, well, noble. His spine is so straight and as he slides off the horse and marches toward me people part and bow. _

 

_ I feels dirty compared to him. _

 

_ What has he ever seen in a street urchin like me? _

 

_ “I demand to know what she has done that warrants the whipping post?” His hand is tight on his sword as his eyes wash over me, his presence is a balm over my cracked places. _

 

_ “She's been poaching on the kings land sir. First offense.” The guard says, his head ducked. _

 

_ “Release her.” _

 

_ “I am afraid I cannot, sir.” _

 

_ “I said let her go.” His voice is like ice water. Cold and low. The man looks up wide eyed. _

 

_ “Sir, it was your fathers order.” _

 

_ Peeta cuts his eyes toward his father who is standing at the edge of the platform, his eyes wide and sad. _

 

_ “Father, what is the meaning of this?” _

 

_ His father walks over, his hand holding Peeta's arm. He looks between his son and I, looking utterly miserable. _

 

_ “The King wanted her executed like her father, this was the least amount of punishment I could give her.” _

 

_ “For poaching?” I feel my heart sink at the determined edge in his voice. I know him so well, and I know exactly what he is planning. _

 

_ “Peeta.” I say as he looks over at me. His face is a mask, unreadable.”Peeta, don't.” _

 

_ “I volunteer.” He says simply. _

 

_ My knees give out. _

 

_ What? _

 

_ “What?” His father says. _

 

_ “Someone needs to be punished for this. The king needs blood.” Peeta hissed as he is unhooking his belt. I still can't move, can't think as I watch his sword drop into the dirt at his feet. _

 

_ The crowd is murmuring, jostling impatiently. _

 

_ “I have also poached his land.” _

 

_ “Peeta.” His father's voice is quiet as he touches his sons face. “You can't do this.” _

 

_ “Let them spill our blood for once.” _

 

_ “I can't let you do this.” William Mellark, to his credit, sounds sorry. _

 

_ My chest is heaving as I slump against the guard whose trying to hold me up. He can't do this, can he? Can he take someone else’s punishment for them? I think I make a noise at the back of my throat because suddenly his eyes are on me and he is smiling at me reassuringly as his jacket is dropped into the dirt also. _

 

_ I can hear the collective gasp in the crowd as they realize what is happening. _

 

_ “Sparrow.” He says softly. _

 

_ I think I hear his father sigh and the guards let me go and I fall into Peeta's arms. Another sharp intake of air from the crowd. Our relationship was rumored, it was made of whispers, seeing it in real life is different. They don't know how to react. _

 

_ “Please.” I blubber, not caring that everyone is staring at us. I don't care because I just want Peeta Mellark to be okay. I just don't want him hurt. _

 

_ “Katniss, look at me.” Somehow I do. I stare up at his face with tears clinging to my lashes. He holds my face in his hands and smiles. “It will be alright.” _

 

_ “Peeta-” His father interjects. _

 

_ “Father.” He says. “Ten lashes could kill her, never mind thirty.” _

 

_ I see the resignation in his fathers eyes and I wish I didn't. I claw at his neck, wrapping my arms around his neck like a vice. I can feel his lips in my hair as he kisses my head. _

 

_ “Can you hold my jacket?” He asks me, prying me away and picking it up and wiping the dust off. He presses the fabric into my hands. _

 

_ “Peeta Please don't do this.” _

 

_ “It will be okay, Sparrow.” He kisses me then, a small peck between my eyes, right on the bridge of my nose. The kind that would make me squeak under different circumstances. _

 

_ My chest heaves. _

 

_ I can't breathe. _

 

_ Arms circle me and pull me back. I fight them like I am a wild dog. I scream his name and kick and scream and bite but they pull me away anyway. My fighting in the end is futile. _

 

_ “Don't let her watch.” Peeta implores to whomever is holding me and then he is marching up the stone steps toward the post. _

 

_ Everyone is quiet. _

 

_ Watching. _

 

_ The guards reluctantly bind Peeta's wrists and tie them to the post. I writhe against the arms holding me as a guard rips away his shirt. He looks at me and it isn't sad, it isn't angry or afraid. _

 

_ He winks at me. _

 

_ I can feel myself go still and maybe that was his plan all along. Because he swallows his smile and looks straight ahead, his eyes locked on the horizon. _

 

_ Then the whip is raised. _

 

_ I am such a coward that in the split second before it hits the skin of his bare back I turn and bury my face in the chest of the person holding me. _

 

_ I force myself to look somewhere around the tenth lash. That is when his teeth unclench and a cry finally wrenches its way out of his chest. It is so full of agony and it echoes in my head as he slumps. _

 

_ I try to crawl forward but everything in me is numb and heavy. I end up curled up in the dirt, clutching Peeta's jacket desperately. _

 

_ Around the seventh lash I give up and shove my hands over my ears. _

 

_ “Its over.” _

 

_ Haymitch pries my hands away from my ears. _

 

_ It takes him three tries but he gets me up and I stumble blindly toward Peeta who passed out around the tenth lash. _

 

_ His skin has a sick sheen to it. _

 

_ His back is a mess of blood and torn skin and I stop short inches from him, My hands tremble as I hold them over the hot angry flesh, unsure of what to do. _

 

_ “Prim!” I call as Haymitch cuts him down. _

 

_ “Prim!” I wail again. _

 

_ Someone has brought an old door and people raise him up onto it. I hold his head up as they slide him onto the board. _

 

_ His father is nowhere to be found. _

 

_ At the sound of my voice Peeta begins to stir. _

 

_ “Shut up, girl.” Haymitch snarls. _

 

_ I fall silent, my fingers reaching out and touching the soft down of his curls. _

 

_ “I'm here, it's going to be okay.” I say to him, my voice almost childlike. _

 

_ He says something but it turns into a incoherent whimper. _

 

_ People bustle around, the crowd is dispersing. I am left kneeling in a slick pool of his blood. It stains my hands, my dress. _

 

_ I watch the square empty. _

 

_ “Do you see now?” _

 

_ Her voice is cold and hollow. _

 

_ I don't acknowledge this woman at my side. If I had my bow I would kill her without a second thought. _

 

_ “I hate that it had to end this way. If you would have listened to me before this whole mess could have been avoided.” She tsks her tongue like she does when I forget the cream for her tea. _

 

_ I turn my dry, burning eyes up to her. _

 

_ “Do you see now?” She says flatly. “What you cost my son?” _


End file.
